Double Life
by WallflowerBitca
Summary: Angel has assumed a by-day identity as FBI agent Seeley Booth, but by night works with his AI Gang to fight demons. Willow is now a watcher and also Brennan's newest intern. At the Jeffersonian, old friends unite and their demon lives begins to clash with their human ones – can Willow keep them separate without getting everyone at the Jeffersonian killed? Willow/Angela Booth/Bones
1. Chapter 1

**Double Life**

**Bones/BtVS Crossover, set five years post Chosen. Angel has assumed a by-day identity as FBI agent Seeley Booth, but by night works with his AI Gang to fight demons. Willow is now a watcher, working with Kennedy, Vi, Giles and the rest of the Scooby Gang to fight big naughty evil on America's biggest hellmouth, Washington DC. She takes up a job as Brennan's newest intern, hoping to find an escape from her monster-fighting life during the day and meets up with an old friend. Her demon life begins to clash with her human one – can she keep them separate without getting everyone at the Jeffersonian killed?**

**Set during S4 of Bones – Angela and Hodgins are currently broken up, Willow and Buffy are running Slayer Central, training the new slayers. Assume Bones S1 occurred immediately after Angel S5 (which it actually did, lol).**

**Chapter 1: Human-Wicca-Watcher**

"Angela?" Brennan called over her shoulder.

"Yeah Sweetie?" Angela walked into her best friend's office, dropping a stack of paperwork on her desk.

"I've got a new intern starting today, would you mind going and getting her from upstairs?"

"Sure, but why aren't you doing it?"

Brennan shrugged, a sly smile on her lips. "I just figured you two should meet… you seem compatible on multiple levels."

"Sweetie, your interns and I are _never _compatible. They're all usually insane." They both flinched at what Angela said, remembering Zach all too clearly. "Sorry," Angela murmured. "If you think I'll like her then I won't say no. I must say, seeing Roxy again was quite a rush."

Brennan just smiled at her friend, not prepared to say anything more.

* * *

Angela walked along the skyway, heading towards the Jeffersonian's reception office where she was to meet Brennan's new intern. In a way, she was kind of excited. After all, new people were always good. Especially ones that were 'compatible' with Angela. Maybe this new intern would sympathise with Angela in some way over the ookiness of the job they performed. Or this girl could just be another mini Brennan-in-training. Angela shrugged to herself, not really caring all that much either way, but grateful for a distraction that would take her mind of the disastrous end of her relationship with Hodgins. She entered the reception office and glanced around. There were only two other people, the receptionist behind the desk, chatting on her cell and painting her nails and a shy looking red-head who was standing in the corner.

"Uh, I'm Angela Montenegro from the medico-legal lab. Dr Brennan sent me to meet her new intern?"

The blonde receptionist gave a non-committal shrug and went back to her phone conversation. Angela felt a tap on her shoulder and she spun around. The red-head took a surprised step back, and raised her hands in apology.  
"Sorry," she said. "That'd be me… I'm Dr Brennan's new intern."

"Oh!" Angela cried. "Hi, it's great to meet you. Er… welcome to the Jeffersonian."

"Is everyone here like that?" The red-head asked nervously, inclining her head toward the receptionist. "All nail-paint-y and ignor-y?"

Angela laughed, enjoying the fact that this girl obviously didn't treat the English language with the same reverence as most of the scientists that passed through here.

"Uh, no. Not where we're headed anyway," Angela said with a wink. She led the new intern down the corridor before stopping abruptly. "Oh God! How rude do I feel right now! I'm sorry, I never introduced myself, I'm Angela Montenegro, I'm a forensic artist and computer technician, I work with Dr Brennan."

The red-head gave her a dazzling smile and replied, "I'm Willow Rosenberg."

* * *

"Okay, Willow, this is our lab," Angela gestured grandly, indicating the shiny work surfaces and strikingly modern computer systems.

"Oh wow," Willow murmured reverently, stroking her fingers across a keyboard. "I think I just went to heaven…"

"You like computers?" Angela asked brightly.

"It may be very illegal for me to tell you this, but I've been hacking into government encrypted software since I was in my teens." Willow walked forward, examining some of the computers.

"Patent pending?" Willow asked.

"Mine," Angela replied with a slightly smug smile.

"Impressive," the red-head breathed. "This technology is incredibly advanced."

"And you're only looking at the stuff that I let the scientists touch," she giggled, "wait until you see my pride and joy, the Angelator."

Willow grinned at her. Angela silently thanked her best friend, Brennan was still really getting it right. There was _most definitely _compatibility to be had. Willow was really very beautiful, shoulder-length red curls and sparkling emerald eyes… she wore fitted jeans and a modest buttoned blouse that showed just an inch of creamy cleavage. But it was this girl's vibrant personality that drew Angela in the most… Willow was bright, quirky and cute but Angela could see that there was pain there, which she found herself wanting to comfort the girl for. Still, she was jumping to some very quick conclusions here and she forced herself to put on the breaks. _C'mon, Angie… you've only know the woman ten minutes. She's probably straight anyway._

"Do you want to meet the rest of the team?" Angela said with a wide smile.

"You betcha." Willow followed happily, her heart pounding with nerves and excitement. This was all so good! It was five years since Sunnydale had fallen in and four years since they'd relocated Slayer Central to America's biggest hellmouth, right here in Washington DC. Willow, witch and watcher to the Scooby Gang, Council of Watchers and Slayers in Training (Scoobies, COWS and SITS) was thankful that Buffy had urged her to enjoy a bit more of a human life too. It was kind of a double life for her now, by day she was a forensic anthropologist in training and by night she was a bad-ass wicca, fighting demons and averting apocalypse. Still, she knew that after twelve years fighting beside the Slayer, she needed something more, a human life to lead. So here she was, pursuing an academic-crime-fighting career… on a hellmouth. After all, she was still a Watcher, still a witch. She was still part of the Slayer operation.

"This is Hodgins, he's our bug and slime guy." Angela indicated a short-ish man, with piercing blue eyes.

"Hi," Willow said with a smile. Human life, human life. The Jeffersonian was the place where she'd be fighting murderers, not demons. Demons could wait until she was home. "I'm Willow Rosenberg. Pleased to meet you Dr Hodgins."

"Jack, please." He gave her a wide grin, staring intensely into her eyes. "Are you doing anything after work?"

"Uh, not necessarily…" Willow was stopped in her tracks… she was kind of planning to go patrolling, maybe work some training routines with the new SITs, practise some spells. Bash some vamps. You know, girly stuff.

"Well, do you maybe want to come get a drink?"

"Uh…?" Willow floundered, not sure what to say to the sudden request.

Angela rolled her eyes. "That's Jack's not-so-subtle way of saying he thinks you're hot."

"Hey! Well, yeah… but, hey!"

Willow burst out laughing, bent double with her giggles. She was so not used to this! All the men she was ever around were either un-dead or worked at Slayer Central, where everyone knew…

"I-I'm flattered, Jack, really but…" she giggled again, "I'm just not used to this. See uh, I'm kinda gay."

Angela cracked up too, leading Willow away as Hodgins stuttered.

"Wow…" Willow murmured. "That was so weird, I haven't had to do that in years!"

"Are you really gay, or was that just to escape a date with His-Royal-Geekiness?"

"I'm really gay," Willow said with a laugh, "and I'm not exactly turned off by the geeky… actually, he kinda reminds me of my high school boyfriend… with the eyes and the hair and the short…" Willow looked at Angela apologetically, "I tend to talk. A lot. In the babble sense. Please stop me when you see fit or when boredom becomes an issue."

"I like the babble," Angela said, almost shyly. She led Willow around the lab, indicating more of their equipment before stopping outside Cam's office. "Cam? Meet Willow Rosenberg."

"Miss Rosenberg," Cam said politely. "I'm Dr Camille Saroyan, head of the medico-legal lab here at the Jeffersonian."

"I'm very pleased to meet you Dr Saroyan," Willow nodded. "Thank you so much for giving me this opportunity, I mean I've sort of had a lot of stuff going on in my life since, well, forever a-and it's nice to be in a more, uh, intellectual environment." _As opposed to one filled with vampires, demons, slayer best friends and my whacky spell-casting ability_… she added silently.

"You're very welcome Miss Rosenberg, I must say your resume was outstanding." She shook Willow's hand before returning to her desk. "Angela, have you introduced her to everyone else yet?"

"Still working on that one, Cam."

Dr Saroyan just nodded, leaving Willow with a kind smile. Well, Willow thought to herself, so far so good. She'd been here nearly an hour now and so far no demons, vampires, evil entities or a sudden need for Willow's magical abilities. On a hellmouth, this had to be a record. On one hand, Willow was very happy with the non-supernatural turn of events, but it also made her slightly uneasy. She felt as if something had to be just around the corner… come on, she was a witch and a watcher on a hellmouth – things couldn't continue this well for long.

"Ah," Angela breathed to Willow, "here he is, Seeley Booth, the hottie of the Jeffersonian… not that you'd probably be all that interested," Angela gestured toward a tall man with very broad, well-muscled shoulders who had his back turned to them.

"You're just a sweetheart, Angela," he said with a grin, turning to face them. His eyes met sparkling green ones and both of them took a stunned step back, Willow's face paling. Yep, of course, here it was… supernatural occurrences couldn't just leave her alone for even an hour.

"Uh?" Angela looked between the two of them, thoroughly confused by the shocked exchange the pair shared.

"Old friends," Angel – Booth? – muttered, automatically hunching his shoulders. "How are you doing Willow?"

"Uh, uh… g-good Ang-Booth!" She gave him a stony glare. This couldn't be happening… it couldn't. Not here, not in Willow's supernatural-free zone. There couldn't be Buffy's ex. There couldn't be an ensouled vampire standing in front of her with an FBI badge pinned to his jacket. _We need to talk, _she sent to him telepathically. _'No spells, I told myself. No spells at work, no magic, no monsters, no demons…'_

"Ange, do you mind if I steal Willow from you for a minute?"

"Not at all," a still thoroughly confused Angela said, releasing her rather firm grip on Willow's upper arm.

* * *

"Angel!" Willow cried, slapping his arm. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing!" He cried. "And ow."

"Oh get over it."

"Look, Willow, I came here looking for the same thing as you."

"And what might that be?" The red-head was still kinda pissed at him … stupid supernatural interruptions.

"A day job, a chance at having a normal human life, even if it's just in the background while demons are right up the front… a normal human life can feel like an escape. No demons or monsters, no witches or magic… That's what I was looking for when I took this job."

"Well mister, same goes for me!" Willow said indignantly. "And you've kinda messed that up, being a _vampire _and all!"

"Okay, look, while I'm here, I'm FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth. You're Forensic Anthropologist Willow Rosenberg. There's no Ensouled Vampire Angel, no Masterful Watcher Wicca Willow, just our entirely human selves, got it?"

"Deal." Willow grumbled. "But what are you doing demon-wise?"

"Slayage by night… DC is the murder capital of America, they just sort of neglect to mention that 90% of the murders are demonic in nature."

"Been on this hellmouth four years now Angel, figured it out."

"I'm still in touch with the LA gang too. What about you?"

"Slayer Central's a buzzin'. I got called as a watcher, so I'm taking care of a lot of our new slayers and helping Buffy and Kenn with training them and setting up computer data-bases for demons."

"I'm glad the operations are going well, Willow." The red-head just nodded. "What about, uh, romantically… for all you guys?"  
"Xander is enjoying bachelordom… Dawn's been banned from dating since a recent vampire-of-the-non-soul-having incident, Giles has a girlfriend, I seem banished to be eternally lovelorn and Faith and Buffy are screwing like bunnies while we pretend we don't know."

"You and Kennedy…?"

"We fell apart after less than a year. Had a couple of brief… since, but nothing really monumental."

"And Buffy and Faith, really?"

"Yeah," Willow giggled. "We're still pretending we don't know though. Glad you're not all jealous guy now though."

"Yeah, well, got my sights set on another now. Though she's just as unattainable. Maybe even more so." He glanced through the glass divider into the office, where Dr Brennan was sitting hunched over her books, reading furiously.

"I'm sorry, Angel… er, Booth."

He gave her a smile, then led her back outside to the waiting Angela.

* * *

"Hey sweetie, this is Willow Rosenberg."

Brennan looked up from her books, giving the shy looking girl in front of her a smile. "Hello Miss Rosenberg," Brennan said kindly, "I'm glad you're here."

"Thank you, Dr Brennan. It's really an honour to be here."

"Bones?" Angel-Booth asked. "We kinda got to get on the road, case-a-waitin'."

Willow was, to say the least, shocked. She'd NEVER heard Angel speak like that before… usually he was more mono-syllabic and dryly sarcastic, only popping up to deliver grave messages.

"Okay, let's get going Booth." Brennan stood, grabbing a kit-bag from the corner and walking out the door. She stopped and turned, "are you coming Miss Rosenberg?"

"Oh! Uh, yes. Yes of course…"

Angela rolled her eyes, but left and returned to her office, her mind still reeling with the concept of the pretty, young redhead.


	2. SunnyDC

**Chapter 2: SunnyDC**

**Willow starts her first case, but things can't exactly stay simple for Wicca-Watcher gal.**

The testosterone-sized FBI car pulled up at the crime scene and Brennan was the first out, gesturing for Willow to follow her. Excited at the prospect of beginning her first case, Willow bounded out joyfully. As she shut the door, she smiled, feeling the warm sunlight kissing her face and making her hair feel as if it were on fire… and then she stopped, paling as she looked at Angel-Booth who was yet to get out of the car. Telepathically – _damn, using magic again, Rosenberg? Human life, remember! – _she spoke to Angel.

"_Angel, you're gonna fry!"_

_"Willow, I've been doing this for four years now. Remember the gem of Amara?"_

_"That you destroyed?"_

_"It had a friend."_

And Angel-Booth stepped out of the car, his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face as the sunlight washed over him. Willow still cringed, he was supposed to be on fire, after all…

"Miss Rosenberg?" Brennan called.

"Coming, Dr. Brennan," she replied, shooting Angel a withering glare, before grabbing her kit-bag and following Dr. Brennan to the river. Brennan was crouching over a particularly ooky looking skeleton, scraping at it with a cotton bud and collecting samples. Willow had no objections to ooky – living on hellmouths all your life kind of got you used to the slimy and the stinky. She knelt next to Dr. Brennan removing some evidence bags from her kit and beginning to bag some loose scraps of clothing.

"What are your observations, Miss Rosenberg?"

Ooh, a test! Willow worked incredibly well under pressure. She cast her eyes over the skeleton, eyeing the important features and mentally noting them, so that she could reel off an impressive list of observations. "Victim is between twenty-four and twenty-eight, Caucasian female, very petite but well-muscled. She worked rigorously doing some kind of hard labour or fighting – perhaps martial arts?" Willow suggested. "She has stress indicators and calcium deposits in her radius that indicate a lot of fighting – most of these wounds are defensive."

"So she went down fighting?" Angel-Booth asked.

"Not exactly," Brennan commented, more closely examining the fractures evident on every bone.

"They're all remodelled," Willow said, "but there are hundreds…" She shook her head.

"It shouldn't be possible for someone of her age to have this many remodelled fractures," Brennan frowned. "Mathematically, there wasn't enough time. These have all been inflicted within the last five years."

"How long's she been out here?" Willow was _so _not used to hearing Angel talking like this…

"Decomp and insect activity say about two weeks."

"What's the cause of death?" The vampire-gone-FBI Agent asked.

"Blood loss," Willow said immediately. Brennan gave her an impressed smile. Angel patted Willow on the shoulder, grinning at her. Brennan didn't give smiles out easily.

"Let's get the body back to the Jeffersonian," Brennan said quietly, still examining the severely remodelled radius, "can't tell much more without cleaning the bones."

* * *

Not even a day. Not even _one _day. Willow had come to the Jeffersonian to escape the vampires, the demons and all the forces of darkness, yet here she was standing in front of a lab bench with the body of a girl who had _obviously _been killed by a vampire. There were two deep puncture wounds in the vertebrae of her neck – vamp teeth. She'd come here to face evil humans, but here she was, once again face-to-face with the victim of someone of the fangy-bumpy variety.

* * *

"Angel?" Willow drew up silently behind the vampire. They were alone in the lounge above the lab.

"You're doing great, Willow. Not that I ever doubted it… you're as smart as you were in high school." Willow blushed at the compliment, smiling at the man that was – or at least used to be – her friend.

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?" he asked.

"How do you keep your hellmouth-life so far separated from your human-life?"

"I don't let myself be a vampire when I'm here… I become Booth. I fight criminals, not demons. You just have to remember that you have two separate lives, and keep them that way."

Willow smirked, "I guess I kinda ruined that, huh?"

"Not at all," he smiled. "I have to say," he admitted, "I think you came at just the right time. I think I was getting too caught up in this life, this human world… I can't ever let myself forget who – what – I am."

"But, we live on a hellmouth. You must end up with some demon-kills down there in the lab, at least sometimes. How do you deal? Not let on that you know a human didn't do it?"

"What do you think my witchy friends at Angel Investigations are for?" he laughed. "Quick memory spell, send the body to the LA gang to sort out, it's like it never happened."

"It's just, Angel…" she looked down at the lab, all shiny in the sunset-light, "that body…"

"It's not a human kill?" he asked quietly.

"I _really _don't think so."

"Demon?"

"Vampire."

"Barbeque fork."

"What?" Willow laughed.

"A barbeque fork. She was stabbed with a barbeque fork."

Willow just gave him a confused look.

"I don't fork over - no pun intended - vampire kills to the LA gang – there are too many of them on a hellmouth. Instead, they always manage to come up with some non-supernatural explanation. I usually don't even have to fabricate anything."

"It's that easy to hide humans from the forces of darkness?"

"The forces of darkness hid from you for the first sixteen years of your life."

"It's so strange… they live on a hellmouth, with the apocalypses and the vampires and demons… and yet they have no idea."

"Brennan is the smartest woman I've ever met," Angel murmured, looking at her bent over the skeleton, "but she's so rational that she'd never believe me if I told her. She's happy not knowing, I'm not going to tell her."

"So we just solve the case, I pretend I don't know that a vampire killed her?"

"Pretty much. The vamp'll probably have been staked by one of the SITs before morning." He grinned at Willow.

"It's that easy to pretend our world doesn't exist?"

"It's that easy."

* * *

Willow opened the heavy wooden doors, sighing in relief as she looked at everyone lounging around in front of the fire. No apocalypse tonight. Thank God. She was exhausted.

"How was your first day, Red?" Faith called from her lioness-like position on the hearth.

"It was… special. I bumped into an old friend, actually."

"Ooh, who?" Buffy was lying with her head on Faith's butt, using it as a cushion.

"Angel."

"What?!" Buffy sat bolt upright. "I thought he was still in LA!"

Faith grumbled at the loss of her not-so-secret girlfriend, sitting up too. "Yeah, what's fang-boy doing in DC?"

"The same thing as me," Willow said with a smile. "He's trying to have a human life – at least by day. He's an FBI agent now, going by the name Seeley Booth."

"Wow." Faith collapsed back onto the ground, pulling the blonde slayer down with her.

"That's cool," Buffy said. "Seeley, though, seriously? Who picks that kind of name?"

"A guy born in the eighteenth century?" Faith offered.

"Good point…"

"So how was slayage?" Willow asked. "Did I miss anything?"

"Kennedy's trainees slayed the bad wallpaper. Crossbow training was fucking lethal," Faith grinned.

"Any disasters?"

"Eerily quiet," Giles said, emerging at the top of the staircase. The house they lived in was huge – enough room for an entire floor devoted to slayer training sessions. And another floor devoted to Giles' library, Willow's computers and their apothecary of magic supplies. It was better stocked than the magic box had ever been. The top floor was devoted to living space for the Scooby gang, the bottom floor dorms for the Watchers and Slayers in Training.

"Big evil's most likely a-brewing." Dawn came in, clutching a mug of coffee.

"Hellmouth normalness," Xander looked up from his comic, grinning at Willow.

Yep, hellmouth normalness… as per usual, Willow wasn't going to get to be normal-gal… nope. She was, once again, watcher-wicca-hellmouth-gal. In and out of work, now it seemed.

* * *

"Buffy?" Willow knocked on the slayer's door.

"Come in, Will." She waved her friend in, and they sat down together on Buffy's bed. "What's up?"

"Well…" she paused, not quite sure whether she wanted to tell Buffy now. "Say a girl likes another girl, but she's pretty sure that the other girl is straight, but she doesn't want to ask because that would be weird. The other girl already knows that the first girl is gay and obviously didn't have an issue with it, but now that first girl really just wants to know what the other girl thinks of her and…"

"Willow, I think I cracked your uber-advanced code."

"Right." She took a deep breath. "There's this girl at the Jeffersonian, Angela… she's beautiful. And she's smart. And she's INCREDIBLE with computers… but I've never made the first move with a girl… they always sort of just take the initiative. But I want to be initiative-girl now! How do I know?"

"Well, you've only known her for a day, Will. Maybe get to know her a little better? And knowing our Scooby-dating-collective track record, you might want to check she isn't a) evil, b) a demon or c) both. But who wouldn't fall for Willow?" The slayer grinned.

"You're the best friend ever, Buffy." She hugged her best friend and got up, turning to leave before looking back. "And Buff? We all know."

"Know what?"

"About you and Faith," she gave the slayer a shit-eating grin.

"Really?" Buffy seemed genuinely shocked.

"It's obvious in a glaring kind of way."

"Oh…" Buffy blushed. "I've liked her for… well, ever."

"Well, feel free to like in front of people. We think it's sweet."

"You've talked about it with the others?" The slayer blanched.

"Duh."

Buffy swatted at her friend, but the redhead just grinned, before closing the door on her friend.

**You like? If so, reviews please! The feed my muse... She gets peckish, especially around weekends.**


	3. Barbeque Fork

**Barbeque Fork**

**Willow and Angela goodness ensues :D and when a slayer goes missing at the same time a new body shows up in Brennan's lab, how can Willow and Angel keep their Hellmouth lives out of work?**

Willow was looking through the plated glass into Angela's office. The brunette was hunched over her desk, a smear of charcoal on her face as she sketched the victim. Willow was a terrible liar. She'd learnt that in third grade when she accidentally let the class hamster out of its cage and tried to lie about how a snake came in, unlocked the cage and took the hamster away. Thank the Goddess Xander had been there to cover for her. And he hadn't even minded that his cookie ticket for snack time got taken away. She'd shared hers as thanks. That was just a little lie and Willow hadn't been able to handle it without major-guilt-levels… now? Well, now she was lying about her own professional opinion! The body that Dr. Brennan was currently examining belonged to a strong, athletic young woman with a mathematically impossible number of remodelled fractures – who had in fact been killed by a vampire. Willow had come here to catch the not-so-literal demons – evil people who did bad things, like stab and shoot and strangle. But here she was again, with the victim of another vampire attack. That's hellmouths for you. But still, Willow had to know, who was this girl that she was lying her ass off for? Who was this woman who had been brutally killed by a vampire less than two weeks ago? The only person who'd have that answer for her was Angela. Oh Goddess, she had to lie to Angela… okay, Willow, calm down. You can do this. It's not even a real lie. Just a lie of omission. Sort of. It's for Angela's own good anyway… she doesn't need to know about the world of vampires and demons and ooglie-booglies… She deserves a normal life. That's the least Willow could do for the woman who made her stomach do jumping jacks, right?

The redhead knocked nervously on Angela's door, and the Eurasian beauty looked up at her, a grin lighting her face.

"Willow!" She said brightly, "come in, please!"

Willow smiled shyly – Goddess the woman was beautiful. She could hardly concentrate, lost in the dark-chocolate pools of her eyes. They'd known each other less than a week now, but every time Willow saw Angela, she couldn't help but get this goofy grin on her face. All she could think about was how deliciously _different _Angela was to everyone else in this place – well, except maybe for Booth… he was kinda a vampire going by an FBI alias. But still. Angela was so much more human than the rest of them. Sure, Willow loved science and practicality, but having spent her entire life living on hellmouths, she'd learned that sometimes it was important to have an open mind, to be willing to believe anything. To let yourself get lost in a fairy-tale … unless said fairy-tale was about evil, voice-stealing demons. Don't wanna get lost in that story. Again. But looking at Angela, so human and bubbly and vibrant… so naïve to the hellmouth gurgling away beneath her city… it made Willow ache for the closeness of a truly human comfort. Not sympathy from a undead-vampire-guy who, too, was searching for a slice of humanity, not a hug from her best friend the slayer, not a joke with her other best friend who'd spent his life battling demons… not dating with a werewolf, a slayer or even her soulmate, a witch… she wanted – no, needed – to find some peace with her own humanity. And every time she looked at Angela, she felt that the spirited young artist might just be her way to do that.

"What can I do for you Willow?" Angela offered her another dazzling smile, and Willow felt her insides go all gooey.

"Uh, uh, uh…" Willow didn't stutter or uhm or ahh. Ever. She'd gone all non-verbal with Oz, with Tara, she felt so comfortable and loved it was like she could talk forever and ever, with Kennedy she hadn't really had anything happen at all… but Angela made her all blushy and nervous. "I-I was just wondering," Willow stammered, "how the facial reconstruction's going? Dr. Brennan is bugging me for an ID on our victim."

"Of course, I was just adding some detail," Angela moved aside, revealing a stunning sketch laid out on her desk. The girl had curly dark hair, bright, a soft smile on her face and an almost wistful look in her light eyes. Her lips were full and plush and she had a long, straight nose and high cheek bones.

"Angela…" Willow gasped. "This is stunning…" Willow was in awe. It was almost as if Angela had captured a moment in time, sketching the girl as she gazed into her future… a future, Willow realised with a pang, she never got to have. And she got it all from a skeleton. Bare bones. Now, Willow and Dr. Brennan could tell you how long she played tennis for, whether or not she was a good swimmer, how old she'd been when she broke her first bone, exactly the way her cheek bones arched and even her exact age… but Angela had captured so much more. She'd captured a personality in smears of charcoal. She'd brought the girl to life on the page.

"I got a hit off the FBI database," Angela whispered, her voice almost inaudibly soft. She was transfixed by the redhead's obvious adoration of her sketch. She could never admit it, but she'd worked extra hard on this one, hoping for Willow's approval of her abilities. And she was glad. She could have watched Willow forever, the way her red-hair was illuminated under the soft, yellow light of Angela's lamps… the way her green eyes had darkened with emotion as she looked at the drawing. How could she possibly put into words what the redheaded forensic anthropologist did to her? How could she possibly explain the way she could lose herself in those sparkling green eyes, the way her insides turned to mush at Willow's smile? How could Angela tell Willow how her bubbly personality and adorable nervous babble made Angela want to grab her, pull her into a tight embrace and kiss her silly? She couldn't put the rush of emotions into words, or even actions. She just couldn't. She'd never felt like this before.

Slowly, Angela reached out a hand, placing it on Willow's shoulder and feeling an instant rush of energy and heat from both of them. They looked up at each other, eyes meeting in shock, before the two women blushed, looking back down at the sketch.

"What's her name?" Willow asked quietly.

"Her name's Anita Norman. She's twenty-six years old." Angela, trying to move on from the intensity of Willow's gaze, walked over to her computer, lighting up her screen as she showed Willow the page on Anita. "She's from Canada. I haven't got much more than that on her."

"No mention of all the injuries?"

"Files don't say anything."

"I'll take these to Dr. Brennan," Willow said, taking the print-outs of the information and a photocopy of Angela's sketch. "Thanks again, Angela."

"You're welcome."

Willow turned, walking out of the room.

"Willow?"

Willow spun around eagerly, hopeful. "Yes?"

Chickening out, Angela settled for something far more innocuous than what she had been about to say. "You look really nice today."

Willow smiled, blushing slightly, before leaving the room.

* * *

Willow was taking her break when her cell phone started ringing.

"Hey Buff," she greeted, answering her best friend. "What's up?"

"Willow, Rona's missing."

"What?" Willow eeped. The way the Council worked now was that each watcher trained a group of five girls – Giles had five, Willow had five and Rowena had five, the rest of the girls that lived at Slayer Central were too young to have a watcher yet. Rona was one of Willow's slayers.

"She and Kennedy went out, tracking your killer-vamp-friend last night and Kennedy came back about two in the morning. She said that she and Rona split up, chasing the guy down. They were gonna corner him in an alley, come at him from both sides, and when Kenn got to her side, no Rona to be found. No vamp to be found either. Kennedy searched for hours, but came back here to slay central when she couldn't find her, figuring she'd come back to the dorms. Willow, Rona's been missing for fourteen hours now… something's happened. I just know it."

"Oh Goddess…" Willow murmured. "Look, Buffy I'll try and get away as soon as I can. When I get back to the house I'll get Dawn to help me with a locator spell, okay? Tell her to set up the ingredients and just sit tight. If Rona did meet the vamp that killed the girl in our lab, she's in danger. Don't let any of the girls out."

"Aye aye, watcher." Buffy replied, saluting from the other end of the phone.

* * *

Willow was bent over the lab bench with doctor Brennan, swabbing the puncture wounds in Anita's vertebrae for particulates. As soon as this was done, she could go… as soon as this was done, she could go look for Rona… She chanted her mantra over and over, whilst simultaneously trying to focus on her work.

"Miss Rosenberg?" Brennan was giving her an odd look. "Are you capable of continuing? You seem very distracted."

"Oh, er, right…" Willow hurried back to her work. "Sorry."

"Hey gang," Angel-Booth called out to the room at large, coming into the lab with a sheet-covered gurney following him. "We got another victim. This one's had her skin torn off. Completely. There's no skin left."

Cam and Brennan rushed toward the gurney, helping the orderlies pull the gurney up onto the platform.

"Can I get an _ew_?" Angela said, approaching the platform and swiping her card. "No skin, seriously Booth?"

"It's unusual," he said pointedly, looking at Willow. "I've never seen anything like it before," he added.

"I have," Willow said, then clapped her hand over her mouth. Bad Willow. She _so _should not have said that.

"When?" Brennan asked, stunned. She had uncovered the body now, revealing a pristine body – except for the whole flaying.

"Uhm," realising she couldn't back out of this now, she decided that it wouldn't be worth lying. "Back in my old town, Sunnydale, there was a murder," she said softly. "Warren Mears. He was flayed alive." By me, she added as a silent afterthought. "And there was another one about three months later, I don't know his name, but he was killed by something different."

"Something?" Brennan was intrigued.

"Uh, someone," Willow corrected. She had to remember, these people didn't know about 'somethings'.

"She's paralysed," Cam said, attempting to flex the victim's elbow.

_Gnarl demon_, Willow heard in her head.

_Huh? _She replied.

_Gnarl demon_, came Angel's voice again.

_I'm familiar. Got caught by one once, paralysed, he tried to eat my skin. Buffy slayed. _

_Willow, that's two demon kills in our lab already. What's happening? Have you guys at Slayer Central got wind of anything going down?_

_It's been really quiet, _Willow replied_. That usually means that big evil's a-brewing. _

_I think it's brewed. _Replied the FBI-Vampire.

**You heard Angel. Big evil's brewed. There's something out there... Review and elt me knwo what you're thinking :D Update soon!**


	4. Brewed

**Brewed**

**As demons from Sunnydale's past begin coming back to haunt them, can Willow and Angel keep their secret in the lab?**

"Willow?" It was that voice… the voice that made the redhead want to melt into a puddle of Willow-shaped goo…

"Hey Angela," she turned with a smile, her heart fluttering as she took in the artist's appearance. Angel was dressed simply, in tight black work pants and a white tank top with a vest and a string of hand-painted wooden beads… it was so hip and cool! Willow felt like she was back in high school, appraising her crush's outfit like that… except she was pretty sure she was beyond simple crush-age when it came to Angela.

"Willow, what do you think happened to that girl in there?"

There were now two bodies in the lab, one who had CLEARLY been stabbed by a barbeque fork, the other, Willow and Angel hadn't quite come up with a non-supernatural explanation for. Gnarl demons were nasty – Willow had first-hand experience. But they also killed in a pretty signature way. The body that Cam was currently doing the autopsy on was completely void of its skin. Willow had no idea how to explain that to Angela.

"I honestly don't know… Cam says she was flayed alive."

Angela paled. "She was alive when the monster tore off her skin?" She sounded on the verge of throwing up.

"M-m-m-monster?" Willow's heart jumped into her throat, her palms beginning to sweat. Did Angela know? Did the vibrant-oh-so-human artist know about the hellmouth that rumbled beneath them?

"Yeah, whatever sicko-murderer skinned that poor girl alive!"

"Right. That's what I thought you meant," Willow covered awkwardly. "Do you have an ID yet?"

"I have a face for her – it's not too hard with all that flesh still there." Angela led Willow through to her office. The redhead couldn't help but notice how _incredible _Angela's ass looked in those pants… the way the vest synched in at the waist to perfectly show off her sculpted figure and… WILLOW. Snap out of it… "This is her," Angela said softly. "She's really young, Willow. No more than twenty."

Angela held out a sketch of young-faced woman. She had ebony skin, curly black hair and a broad nose… An almost baby-like face that Willow could have picked out of thousands. She felt her stomach knot, felt the tears sting the back of her eyes… so much inside of her was yelling at her to run, leave this job, this town, before it was too late. Before more girls got hurt. "I hate it this way, when they're so young…" Angela continued, not noticing Willow's tears, "so much potential."

"She was more than a potential," Willow whispered, running her finger down the charcoal-cheekbones. "Oh Goddess, what's happening…"

"Willow?" Angela asked gently, noting her newfound friend's tears. "Oh God, Will, you knew her?"

"I was supposed to look after her." Willow breathed. "Oh Goddess, Rona…"

"Rona?" Brennan drew up behind her best friend and new intern.

Willow spun, hastily wiping her tears and taking a shaky breath. "The skinless victim, her name is Rona. Rona Everton. She's just turned twenty. Grew up in Michigan, broke her arm when she was nine falling off her scooter… She sustained a lot of injuries just before Summer in 2003. Broken arm, there'll be a crack in her right occipital lobe. Also sustained in 2003." Willow stared at the ground, rattling off the fact as if that might make a difference… if she could list these things about the girl she was supposed to protect, then maybe it wouldn't hurt as much. Facts didn't hurt. That's why she liked them. That's why Dr. Brennan made more sense to Willow than anyone on the planet. She knew how to not get hurt. Cause… getting hurt? For Willow, there badness lay. Last time she lost someone she really loved, she'd tried to end the world… And now Rona was dead. And it was her fault. Willow should have taken care of her. She should have prepared her better. Willow was Rona's Watcher. She was supposed to help her, not get her killed.

"Miss Rosenberg, were you close to the victim?" Dr. Brennan asked.

"Yes," she nodded curtly. "She was my responsibility."

"You should go home, Willow," Angela murmured, running an open palm over Willow's back. Willow tingled at Angela's touch, smiling slightly at the sensation.

"I-I can't," she replied. "I … I need to talk to Ang- err, Booth." And without another word, Willow turned and ran out of the room.

"Oh Goddess," Angela whispered, unconsciously using Willow's phrase, "she's only been here three days and already someone she knows has turned up in our lab."

"She's an extremely competent scientist," Brennan said quietly, turning to Angela. "But I feel as if she isn't completely invested in her work."

"Sweetie, her friend just died."

"Not that, I understand how grief patterns affect a human's work and their functioning ability, and I will make allowances for that in her behaviour, but I feel like she knows more than she's saying."

"I thought you didn't believe in intuition," Angela said dryly.

"So did I."

* * *

"They suspect something."

"Holy crap!" Willow spun around to face Angel, her heart pounding. As usual, he'd appeared out of nowhere and frightened the bejeezus out of her. "I thought you'd stop doing that, you know, pretend to be more human or something…"

He shrugged. "Not with you."

"Hey, looking for a little normalcy here, Angel!"

"That's what I was doing too," he admitted, "but in our world, normal is a VERY relative term. Us, we won't ever be normal Willow, and with these last two attacks, you should be very glad to have your powers."

"The skinless girl, she's a slayer," Willow murmured. "She was one of my slayers. Rona."

"Oh Willow," he murmured, "I'm sorry. And I hate to make it worse right now because I know you must be feeling terrible, but there's something I need to tell you about our first victim."

"Anita Norman – the girl was twenty-six," Willow reminded herself. "Vampire bite."

"She wasn't just a girl."

"Oh?"

"Anita was a slayer," Angel said. "She was making her way here, to the hellmouth, so that she could train with the others, get some help with her calling."

"Like the dozens of other girls that come to us," Willow replied. "Anita was a slayer too?"

"Yes," Angel clarified, "she lived in Russia, had been fighting over there – hence the ridiculous number of injuries."

"That's why she had so many healed breaks!" Willow squeaked. "She was a slayer… super healing."

"Exactly," Angel replied.

"How do you know all this?"

"I had a hunch… called Giles to ask about any other missing slayers. He said that Anita was supposed to arrive at the house about two weeks ago. Fits time of death."

"So someone's killing slayers?"

"Honestly," Angel said, "I'm hoping it was just a coincidence."

"When the hellmouth is active, _nothing _is ever just a coincidence," Willow reminded him.

* * *

_I always found the bodies_, Willow mused to herself. _Back in Sunnydale when we patrolled, I always found the bodies. Now what do I do for a living? I find bodies. I just wish they weren't the bodies of people I cared about. _She was walking home from the lab, just after dusk. Thankfully, it wasn't quite dark enough for vamps to be out in force yet – the sun still peaked over the horizon. The whole city of Washington DC was bathed in a diffuse, orange glow and the air was still warm and moist. It was nearly May, and the weather was just beginning to heat up… but Willow didn't associate May with warming weather… she hadn't since she was sixteen. Now, she associated it with the annual blow of the hellmouth. Whichever one she happened to be on. When they lived in Sunnydale, things usually started getting really quiet just after Buffy's inevitable birthday disaster… the peace would last about three months, then things would start to pick up again. After that it would get bad – fast. Jenny died in May. Faith went into cahoots with the mayor in May. Adam rose in May. Glory started hunting them in May. Tara died in May. The Potentials were arriving in force in May. Now, years later, there was still not a single May when things hadn't gotten really bad, really fast. As much as she desperately hoped the slayer deaths were just coincidences, she couldn't bring herself to really think that. It was May, after all. She was less than two streets away from the house now, and getting a little nervous. The sun was almost gone. She decided to take a short cut through the park, cutting valuable minutes from her trip. But as Willow rounded the corner of the playground, she stopped dead in her tracks. There was blood in the grass. A LOT of blood. She hiked her bag higher onto her back, following the spatters along the ground. They led a trail into a tight little grove of trees, all gnarled and ancient looking. In the middle of the grove lay not one, but two bodies. The first was a dark-haired girl, lying face down as blood spread beneath her. The second was a slightly hunched creature, with greasy, tangled hair and a mud-brown robe. He too was lying facedown in a puddle of his own blood. The demon looked strangely familiar, but Willow didn't have time to ponder it. Very carefully, Willow rolled the girl over to reveal an all-too-familiar face. She was Asian, delicate features and a red slash of a mouth, her dark hair falling over her lifeless eyes. Chao-Ahn. One of Giles' slayers… Willow felt the familiar knot once again coiling in her stomach. One Slayer death in a week is unfortunate. Two is bad. Three? That's just downright terrifying. There were 282 active slayers in the world at any one time… they were the 282 strongest girls in the world. Three of them couldn't have died in one week by pure chance. There was something bigger behind this. And that's when it hit Willow – the demon that Chao-Ahn had managed to fatally wound… Willow knew why he looked so familiar. The ugly, scabby, hunched little demon was one of Glory's minions.

"Coincidence my ass…" Willow muttered, pulling out her cell phone. "It's Slayer Time."

**Reviews much appreciated! Update soon xx**


	5. Serial

**Serial**

**"Let's do it all over again…" Sunnydale's past is coming back to haunt Washington DC, and Willow has to maintain her identity at work as the bodies pile up.**

There were two things Buffy Summers didn't believe it, and that was Leprechauns and coincidences. However a minor apocalypse last year had proven the existence of the former, much to the delight of Dawn who thought they were just about the cutest things on the planet. Until they started biting and casting evil spells, that is. Either way, now there was one thing that Buffy Summers didn't believe in, and that was coincidence.  
"Slayers murdered, Gnarl demon, Glory's minions…" Buffy trailed off, "Giles, something is happening."

"It's a hellmouth," Xander chimed in, "when is something NOT happening?"

"Right before things go boom?" Dawn offered.

"We have three dead slayers on our hands now," Kennedy said, "someone's gotta have it in for us."

"Someone ALWAYS has it in for us," Faith pointed out. "How long has it been since you haven't had your life in danger?"

"About three hours, so point taken," the Latina slayer replied. "But this is all stuff that's happened before, so we can deal, right Buffy?"

"But it's never all happened at once," Willow said. There was a light tap on the door and Willow stood, going to answer it. When she opened the door, there was a figure shrouded in shadow, a cloak pulled up over her head.

"Please, grant me asylum," she said softly. "I need your help, please… in LA they said to come here, that you could help…" The figure swayed, obviously about to fall. She held out a hand and Willow realised with a pang that she was bleeding profusely.

"Oh Goddess," she whispered, taking the woman's arm. "Come inside, we'll get you cleaned up and you can tell us what did this to you." Xander had come into the entry hall and he rushed forward, helping Willow bring the stumbling woman across the threshold. As Xander shut the door behind them, the cloak slithered from the woman's head to the ground, leaving her clad in a long, floor-length, figure-hugging gown. And a set of fangs. In a split second she had Xander around the neck, her fangs pressed to his jugular as he writhed, trying to break free of her grasp.

"Honestly, Willow," she admonished, tutting, "you'd think after all these years you'd know not to invite someone in so easily," she gave a malevolent grin, tightening her grip on Xander. "You know, I really wish I'd killed you in that crypt back in 1997." She slipped out of vamp-face, still grinning.

"Hi, Darla," Willow said coolly. "You just can't stay dead, can you?"

Buffy walked out into the entry hall, "Will, who is-" She stopped dead in her tracks, staring at Darla.

In an instant she had a stake pressed against Darla's back. "Give me one reason not to push this through your chest right now!"

"The instant you do, I snap his neck," she replied, her eyes sparkling. "That, and you can't pump me for information."

"I said one reason," Buffy growled, digging the stake just deep enough to draw blood. She wasn't game to go any further though, not with Xander's life on the line. "Now tell me Darla, how did you get resurrected? You staked yourself years ago." The threat of the stake in her back wasn't what was driving Darla to talk, though of course she was letting Buffy think it was. Made her feel more powerful. It was the least she could do for the girl. No, Darla was here to give Buffy information. After all, massacres are no fun if the massacre-ees don't fight back a little.

"The Order of Rion," she murmured, "they've got it in for you, Slayer. They're the original order that created the very first slayer. You've messed with their spell, and now their pissed," Darla said gleefully. "The Order of Rion is raising everything you've ever struggled to fight, everything that's ever nearly killed you – me included – and they're going to watch you, and every other slayer on the planet, _die_." She spat the last word out.

"When?" Giles said softly from the doorway.

"It started more than a week ago," Darla replied, "they're easing into it – they'll kill you off, one by one until there's nothing left standing between Buffy, Faith and the fate of the world. When they lose, the world will be taken over by the demon's Buffy and her little friends couldn't kill twice." She spun around, pushing the stake from Buffy's stunned grip and dropping a panting Xander to the floor. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find Drusilla. She'll be awfully pleased to hear about the up-and-coming massacre."

And before anyone could do anything to stop her, Darla was gone again.

"Giles," Buffy turned to her mentor, tears sparkling in her eyes. "I don't think we can survive this."

* * *

When Willow returned to work the next day, the first person she went to was not, Angel, as she had intended. In fact, she went to Angela.

"Willow, what's wrong?" Angela asked, pulling the redhead down onto the sofa and handing her a cup of coffee.

And Willow had no idea what to say. She'd sound completely nuts if she told Angela what was really happening. _"Hey, I'm sad because all of the Big Bads are gonna come back and kill us all." _Yeah right. So Willow settled for the only thing that would allow her to pour out her emotion without saying a word. She leant in and in a swift, sensual movement, captured Angela's lips with her own. The artist parted her lips slightly, allowing Willow entrance. She softly sucked on the redhead's bottom lip, quickly becoming intoxicated by Willow's strawberry taste. She could feel all of Willow's emotion pouring into her, as if every movement of Willow's tongue and lips was an unspoken plea, a cry of pain that wasn't ready for Angela's ears. She explored the warm, wet cavern of Willow's mouth with her tongue… it was as if she could taste Willow's feelings. When they finally pulled apart, both women's eyes were darkened with arousal… lips swollen, chests heaving.

"Wow," Willow murmured.

"I concur," Angela replied, leaning her forehead against Willow's and placing a soft kiss on her lips. "Willow?"

"Mmm?" She was still transfixed in the chocolaty depths of Angela's eyes.

"It's Friday night… you wanna go to dinner with me?"

"More than anything."

* * *

"All of the Big Bads and tricky-to-kill demons from Sunnydale?"

"Yep."

"All of them?" Angel clarified for the fifth time.

"Again with the resounding YES, Angel. Big Bads. Bads of the Big variety."

"From the annual May-Hellmouth-Blow?"

"Oh dear God Angel, get this through your big-foreheaded skull," Willow cried, "Big Bads, all of them, from Sunnydale. Demons, from Sunnydale that Buffy has already killed. Demons that nearly killed Buffy. Order of Rion getting big with the senseless chanting. Raising them all for a big kill-the-slayers massacre."

"Willow, you're a smart girl, please tell me, year by year from Buffy arriving in Sunnydale, who were the big bads?"

"Okay," she replied. "Well there was The Master – and with him comes the super-special-cereal-prizes, Drusilla and Darla. We've already had a visit from her. She probably killed our first victim. Then there was The Judge, he was pretty bad. We reckon they'll raise him too. Then there was…" Willow trailed off, her eyes widening as she looked up at Angel. "Then there was you." Skipping over that awkwardly, she continued with her list. "The Mayor, the First Slayer, Glory who's already sent a little minion to kill a Slayer… and, Goddess, _Me_… then that Gnarl demon that nearly killed me and Dawn… then The First."

"Willow?" Angel reached out, touching her cheek as she looked away.  
"Angel… are we gonna… I mean, they raised the others and…" Willow's eyes filled with tears. "Buffy has never come as close to losing a fight as she did with me," she whispered, "in fact, she never actually won the fight. Giles and Xander… they did it. I kicked Buffy's ass, Angel. Completely! If I go all evil again thanks to the stupid Rion people, what if I'm the one that kills her. Or you? What if it happens to you?"

"Shh…" Angel soothed, pulling Willow into his arms. He couldn't say any more, couldn't answer her question. Mostly because he had no idea what the truth was. If the Order of Rion really wanted to stop the slayers, then he and Willow would be integral pieces of the puzzle.

**Read and review please – can Willow face the prospect of losing control again?**


	6. Rion Rising

**Rion Rising**

**Uh-oh… Order of Rion. And does anyone know Kennedy's last name? I had to give her one in this chapter, hope no one objects wildly to it…**

"Goddess Banrion, to you we supplicate, Goddess Banrion, to you we beseech. Goddess Banrion, to you we request, Goddess Banrion, grant us the lives, Goddess Banrion, deliver to us those who challenged the Slayer!"

The men and women were all knelt around a large bonfire, their heads bowed and hands clasped around tall iron shafts, each embedded with emeralds. Each was shirtless, and scarred into their back was the outline of a crown. As they chanted their mantra to their Goddess Banrion, the flames of the fire flickered and danced, spitting rainbow sparks.

"Goddess Banrion!" Screamed their leader. She stood, wearing nothing but a scrap of cloth tied around her waist. "Goddess Banrion, take our sacrifice! Aid us and we will eliminate the slayer line once and for all. This world will be yours!" The leader trembled, the crown scarred into her back glowing golden as she arched and cried out in pain. Blood began to seep from the marking, ruby splatters dripping onto the ground. She writhed in pain as more and more blood poured from her marking. It left a trail from her quaking body right to the edge of the flames. As one last droplet hit the fire, the trail was lit in a gold glow, and in an instant the fire went out, leaving nothing but a pile of ash and the dead body of the leader of the order of Rion.

* * *

"Rupert, what can you tell us about the order of Rion?" Angel asked, pacing up and down the kitchen.

"W-well, I've been researching. They are an ancient sect, Irish roots… they worship the Goddess Banrion – simply the Irish word for Queen."  
"Goddess _Queen_?" Faith scoffed. "That's ego for ya. You'd a thought '_Goddess' _would be enough, but she's gotta be a queen too? Jeeze."

Giles didn't reply, but Buffy laughed, lightly massaging Faith shoulders – to Angel's slightly disdainful stare.

"They invoke to Goddess, she fulfils their request."

"Cool," Buffy replied, "so how do we identify this order so we can put a nice axe through their heads?"

"Well, they have very distinctive tattoo-like marks on their backs – in the shape of a crown. The mark is burned into them upon initiation into the sect."

"Well, that's great, but unlike Glory's Knights of Byzantium who wore their hot little tats on their foreheads, seeing someone's back is a bit harder. Do I just like… hope one of them goes to the pool or something?"

"Well, the other thing about the order of Rion is that when performing rituals or out of the public eye, the men and women tend to be uh, rather topless."

"Cool," Faith laughed.

Again, the British Watcher couldn't bring himself to reply.

"Hate to poop on the research party," Willow said, "but Angel and I have to get to work. We've already got three victims in the lab – one slayer that we're pretty sure was courtesy of Darla, another … Rona … from the Gnarl Demon and then Chao-Ahn killed by one of Glory's minions."

"So much for 'I'm gonna have a human life at work' Red," Faith grinned.

"Yeah, well, who was I kidding? My life will NEVER not have vampires and demons in it," she gestured to Angel, "obviously. But still, I'm not using witchy powers at work."

"That's good, Willow," Giles said gently, "but the both of you just have to remember, it's incredibly important that the humans at the Jeffersonian are kept as far outside of this as possible."

* * *

Cam had her hands inside Rona's chest cavity. She was stunned, really. Three bodies in the lab, all with nearly unexplainable deaths. All female. All so very, very young. This girl, Rona had been flayed alive. At least, mostly alive. She'd died about halfway through the skinning, indicating that it had been done torturously slowly. Then there was that girl, Anita Norman… the wound on her neck looked like some kind of stabbing, probably a barbeque fork. Though of course, they'd have to wait for Hodgins' analysis before they'd have a conclusive answer. Then there was the most recent victim – the one Willow had found. Chao-Ahn. The stabbing victim. Sure, female, sure young, all very strong, all with a HUGE number of previous injuries… but the real common denominator, though Cam desperately didn't want to admit it, was Willow Rosenberg. She personally knew two of their three victims, and had known of Anita Norman. Anita had been on her way to the boarding house that Willow and her friends ran when she'd been murdered. Cam hated the idea of going down the Zach road again, but she couldn't help but think that, mere days after hiring their new intern, three bodies had shown up – each of which had a personal connection to the redhead. Cam was supposed to be in charge of this lab, make all the decisions, but she'd never been so confused in her life.

* * *

"Can you state your name for the records?" Booth was standing, his palms flat on the steel desk of the interrogation room. Brennan was seated next to him and Willow was outside, watching through the one-sided glass.

"Kennedy Harrison."

"And how did you know the victim?"

"Rona? She was… she was one of my best friends."

Angel felt really weird about doing this. He knew the truth of what had happened, yet he was still interrogating a perfectly innocent girl. What's more, he was interrogating a perfectly innocent _slayer _who knew that he was a _vampire_. But he had to do this. He and Willow had agreed it would be best that, when at the Jeffersonian, to deal with this just as they'd deal with any other murder. The supernatural had no place in their lab, and things were going to stay that way.

"Can you tell Dr Brennan and I what happened the night Rona disappeared?"

They'd already agreed on a non-vampire related story. "Rona and I were out for a walk and she thought she heard something… she told me to stay put. Rona is … was … really strong, she was always kinda over-protective. I guess she didn't want me to get hurt. She disappeared down this alley. I stayed where I was for a few minutes, and when she didn't come back I went looking for her. I stayed out for hours, searching all the streets, but I didn't find a thing. I went back to the house and told Buffy and Faith and the others… and they told Willow, er, Dr Rosenberg. Willow was the one that, I dunno hwo to explain it, looked after me and Rona and a few of the others."

"Can you explain your living circumstances, Miss Harrison?"  
"Oh, well Buffy Summers, Faith Lehane, Rupert Giles and Dr Rosenberg, they set up this home for girls… us girls who are really strong, but had kind of a tough start. They look after us, teach us. We call Willow and Giles and a few of the others our 'Watchers'… it's kinda a thing."

Brennan nodded – she seemed satisfied enough with that explanation. Angel let out a sigh of relief.

"May I inquire as to the nature of your relationship with Dr Rosenberg?" she asked.

"Uh…"

Willow, watching through the glass, giggled. She'd never seen Kennedy blush like that.

"Uh, Will and I… we're just friends. She's my 'Watcher'. We-we used to be, uh, _together _but that ended a while ago."

"And on a more personal note," Brennan said, somewhat marvelling at Booth's lack of interruption, "do you think that Dr Rosenberg can remain objective, despite her connection to all of the victims?"

"I know it."

* * *

Willow walked back up to the lab, smiling. As much as she and Kennedy had been on rather lukewarm terms of late, the girl had really come through for her. Kennedy was really growing up. She surveyed the lab. Things had changed so quickly… as per usual. One second, it was all 'la-de-da' next it was 'agh! Monsters!' That's the hellmouth for ya.

"Willow?" A warm hand landed on her shoulder and she spun around, sighing in relief when she gazed into Angela's chocolate eyes. "You're jumpy," the artist laughed.

"Yeah…" Willow blushed, "how are you doing?"

"I was actually going to ask you the same thing," Angela said, leading Willow into her office, "this must be really hard on you."

"Nah… well, yeah… but I'm dealing. I've lost people before."

"I figured as much."

Feeling a sudden pang in her stomach, Willow reached into her purse, pulling out the photo that she always carried with her. She handed it to Angela.

"She's beautiful, Willow," Angela stared at the picture. It depicted Willow, perhaps seven years ago, with her arms wrapped around a beautiful honey-blonde. The blonde was gazing lovingly at Willow and Willow had a huge goofy grin on her face. The sunset behind them lit the couple in golden halos and they glowed with a sense of serenity and happiness. Angela had never seen Willow look so happy.

"She died in 2002," Willow said quietly. "Shot." She came over, tracing her finger over the curve of Tara's cheek. "I loved her more than anything in this world. She was my everything… I was ready to die along with her. And I wanted to take the rest of the world with me."

"I'm so sorry, Willow," Angela said.

"Me too," she looked at Angela, green eyes full of tears, "it wasn't her time, Angela. She never did anything wrong… never did anything but loved me with all her heart and soul. And she died. I was so stupid back then, Angela. I did the most horrible things a-and… and if I hadn't… if I hadn't been so selfish, if I hadn't just listened to her the first time she told me… she wouldn't have been standing in front of that window. She wouldn't have died."

"Willow?" Angela said quietly, sliding the photo into Willow's hand, "do you want to get a cup of coffee?"

Taken aback, Willow smiled. "I'd love to."

**Uh-oh spaghetti-o… Can Willow keep her secret from Angela if they get closer? Reviews please!**


	7. Dating

**Dating**

**Willow and Angela go out, and another demon crops up. Apparently they're not just targeting the Slayers.**

"Will, why the wig-face?" Buffy stood in the doorway of Willow's room, watching her friend nervously smoothing her blouse over and over.

"Oh Buffy, I'm really scared!"

"Look, Willow, we'll handle this demon thing… We've faced them all before after all," she joked.

"No, no," Willow said dismissively. "Not demons. I mean, they're scary and all, but I'm talking about my date!" she squeaked.

Buffy laughed, folding her arms and coming to stand in the mirror with her friend.

"It'll be great, Willow. From what I've heard from you and Angel, you guys really like each other. It'll be great."

"But Buffy, I'm lying to her," Willow said softly. "Constantly. It's like, I have this whole life that I can't talk to her about and I hate that!"

"Willow, as a general rule, that's not exactly a first date conversation. C'mon, if this does work out, let her in on all this stuff then. Until then though, enjoy having a very, very human night out!"

"Human night out, human night out, human night out," Willow muttered her mantra as she obsessively smoothed her blouse for the billionth time. The slayer rolled her eyes, grabbing Willow's hands.

"If your blouse was any smoother, you could be in a Sunbeam commercial, _now go_!" Buffy urged. "Saying 'my shirt wasn't flat enough' is basically the crappiest excuse EVER for being late to a date," Buffy thrust Willow's purse into her hands and unceremoniously turfed the redhead out the door.

* * *

"Oh God, oh God…" Angela checked her hair for the gazillionth time, studying her reflection in the monitor of her computer sitting on her office desk.

"Angela?"

The artist spun around, eyes wide, but her shoulders loosened when she saw that it was just her friend standing in the doorway.

"Hi sweetie," she said to Brennan with a nervous smile. "How do I look?"

"Though I don't share your obvious passion for socially enamoured clothing brands, objectively I think you look very beautiful," Brennan answered kindly.

"Thanks," Angela said with a slight laugh. "That's actually really sweet." She curled a lock of her dark hair around her finger, once again fussing over her reflection. "Do you think she'll like it?"

"As a general rule, I don't aim to get the affections of other women," Brennan smiled, standing behind Angela and sliding a pin into her hair, fixing a stray curl. "But if I were Willow I'm sure I'd have you in an instant."

"You don't mind me dating your intern?" Angela asked, smiling gratefully at the hair pin.

"Well, you've already dated Hodgins and Wendell. I think if I had issues with you dating your co-workers, I would have voiced my opinions sooner."

"Dr. Brennan, I can assure you that your opinions are always voiced," Cam smirked from the doorway. "Angela, you look fantastic."

"Thanks," she breathed, running her hands down her dress and sliding into the cream-coloured pumps she'd brought.

"Be careful, okay?" Cam added.

"Uh, sure…" Angela gave her a sceptical look, "though I don't really see why having dinner is all that dangerous."

"Just keep your head, okay?" Cam said softly. She hated this. Hated the way Angela's eyes were alight with excitement, a sparkle of hope, a glimmer of anticipation as new love blossomed. She hated seeing Angela so happy, when Cam was so terrified that the sweet young red head, so closely connected to these murders, was going to tear her apart.

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Niamh O'Connor called out to the shirtless crowd in front of her, "I want to introduce to you on this night, the newest member of the Order!" She pulled aside a black sheet, tossing it into the fire behind her, revealing a woman, lying face down on the ground, the muscles in her bare back tensed. The men and women all crouched in front of the fire let loose whoops and cheers, applauding the young woman. "This young woman is here to divulge valuable information to us, and to aid us in bringing down the slayer line!" Niamh cried. She was the head of the Order of Rion, and at the age of twenty-eight, among the youngest women to ever lead the sect. She had lightly freckled skin, and tawny hair that fell in waves down her naked back. Niamh stood straight and tall, her lingering gazes and cold, ice-blue eyes filled with disdain and an obvious superiority.

"What information has she?" Rioghan O'Connor drew forward from the shadows, placing a cursory kiss on his wife's lips.

"My love," Niamh whispered to him, not yet allowing the rest of the Order to hear her words. "She knows the Slayers personally."

"And how do we know she will not betray us?" He hissed. "How do we know she will not return to them and tell them of our operations?"

"My love!" Niamh said with a high laugh, "for she has already given us information. In fact, she had warned us of the One, to whom she used to be very close."

"The One?" Rioghan raised an eyebrow, folding his arms over his well-muscled chest.

"The One, the woman among them, neither Slayer nor potential, but witch. The witch who cast the spell that unbalanced the world as we know it, who ruined our precious Slayer line."  
"And what did she say about her?"

Niamh smirked, crouching beside the prone woman and stroking her bare back. "Miss Maddison here gave us the information that will be the red witch's undoing. In fact, I have already made sure that the witch will be a non-issue before the moon again waxes."

* * *

Buffy sank back into the cushy recliner in front of the fire. God it felt good to relax. She finally had time to just stop, think, let her thoughts about the coming battle wash over her. She was, thought she would admit it to no one, petrified. The Order of Rion knew everything that had ever posed a challenge to Buffy, and would deliver them to her demon by demon, big-bad by big-bad, apocalypse by apocalypse… until there was no slayers left to stand between her, Faith, the Order of Rion and the destruction of the Slayer line. The Order of Rion, the ones who had _created _the magic that activated the Slayer line at the dawn of time was now ironically trying to destroy it. Apparently Willow's spell had been an affront to the power balance or whatever. The Order had already managed to murder three slayers, all of which were now being examined by Willow's workplace… by the best (admittedly vampiric) FBI Agent around… by the best scientists in the USA – who had no idea that the causes of death they were working so hard to discover were not, in fact, barbecue forks and gruesome flayings and stabbings, but a re-re-reanimated vampire and Gnarl demons and the minions of a pissed off God. Buffy had barely fought, but she was already exhausted from just _thinking _about the deadly battle that was to come.

Faith stood at the threshold of the living room, watching Buffy groan as she sank further into the recliner. The dark slayer grinned, not her usual smirk, but a more gentle smile, one that showed the pretty dimples in her cheeks and made her chocolate eyes melt with softness. Her girl was kinda beautiful, lying there, her face flickering in the glowing light of the fire. Faith walked forward slowly, all swagger void from her step as she sank to her knees in front of Buffy, completely silent. Buffy's hand shot out, closing around Faith's throat as her eyes snapped open. Instantly, Buffy recoiled her hand, sighing deeply as she gazed at her girlfriend.

"Faith," she breathed.

"Little jumpy, hey babe?" Faith smiled gently, lifting a hand to wipe a stray strand of hair from Buffy's eyes. Her touch was feather-light, and where her fingers touched Buffy's skin, it burned. Buffy placed her hand over Faith's, stopping the darker girl's palm flat on her own cheek.

"It's been a stressful couple of days," Buffy admitted, looking away, though not relinquishing Faith's comforting touch.

"Hey," Faith whispered, "I got you. Always. You don't haveta worry, B." She raised her other hand, guiding Buffy to look back at her, "look at me, I got you. I'm not gonna let anything hurt you, not now, not ever."

"Faith…" Buffy leaned into her touch, her back arching and her chest heaving. Slowly, she leaned forward and captured the dark slayer's plush lips in her own, entangling her in a searing kiss. _Yes,_ Buffy thought to herself. _This sweet, sensitive, understanding girl is the real Faith. She may still be all swagger-and-smirk in front of the others, but when she's here… when she's with me… this is the real her._

* * *

"Hi," Willow said with a nervous smile. "Uh, no… that's not it. Okay, uh, _hiya_." She rolled her eyes at herself. "That's stupid. _Hey…_no." Willow shook her head. She was walking toward the restaurant in the city-centre where she and Angela had agreed to meet, and for God's sake Willow didn't even know how to greet Angela, let alone have a whole _date _with her. "This is stupid," she said to herself. They'd already kissed, for God's sake. A searing, burning, emotion-fuelled clash of lips and tongues and heat. Good kiss. Scratch that, _great _kiss. Distracted by thoughts of soft Angela-lips, Willow didn't even hear the demon approaching behind her. By the time she heard footsteps, it was already far too late. Willow as knocked spreadeagled onto her back on the concrete. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_, she thought to herself, _did living in Sunnydale NOT teach you that taking shortcuts through alleyways, however quick, is a bad idea? _She kicked out, the heel of her boot connecting with the demon's slightly sticky, fleshy belly. It roared, folding backward and stepping lithely away from Willow as she jumped to her feet. "_Iacio!" _She cried, thrusting her hand out in front of her. The demon was hit by a wall of energy, courtesy of Willow's spell, and it was thrown backward. The effects didn't last long though, and it reared it's VERY ugly head and ran toward Willow, its spiky arms aimed directly at her torso. Willow squeaked, thrusting her hands out as another string of Latin words escaped her lips, but before the spells made contact with the demon, the demon made contact with the witch. Its pointy stick stuck hard, puncturing her wrist nastily, before the spells threw it hard against the back wall of the alley. "Ouch," muttered the witch, wiping the blood from her wrist. "I hate demons. I really do." The wound was superficial, and a strip of cloth tied around it would suffice for the evening. One big, dumb, demon wasn't gonna get in the way of her date. No siree.

And there she was. Ahead of her, Willow could see the beautiful young artist, wearing a mid-thigh length flowy black dress and a cream-coloured cardigan with matching pumps. Beautiful, definitely. It had been a long time since Willow had truly felt okay about saying that about another woman, but Angela deserved the mantle.

"You, you looked wonderful," Willow blushed, looking her up and down.

"So do you," Angela said breathily, admiring Willow's figure-hugging black pants and jewel-coloured blouse. She gently took Willow's arm, smiling nervously as she led the redhead inside the restaurant.

* * *

"This place is amazing," Willow complimented, taking another mouthful of the pasta. She watched with transfixed interest as Angela ate, her tongue darting out, catching a drop of the spicy red sauce on her lip before carefully twirling another spoonful.

"I definitely appreciate good Italian food," she said with a grin.

Willow felt a pang deep in her belly. Her vision blurred at she, momentarily felt as if she were about to be sick.

_"Mmm, Italian, my favourite…" The honeyed voice let out a tinkling laugh as she pulled away from their gentle kiss, licking Willow's carbonara sauce from her own full lips. "Willow-taste just adds to that flavour," she said with a blush. Willow beamed at the beautiful blonde sitting across from her._

"Willow?" Angela looked concerned.

"Huh?" Willow's eyes snapped open widely and she gazed at Angela.

"You alright? You looked kinda… spacey."

"Oh!" Willow shook her head. Something had just happened, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember what. "N-nothing. I'm fine, just thinking about Italian food."

**Theories anyone? Next chapter, you'll get to see someone sorely missed (and strangely literal)… stick around :) Also, I'm exam free, so frequent updates abounding from now!**


	8. Newly Unhuman

**Newly Unhuman**

**Someone returns to the scoobies. And what's happening to Willow? Will she be able to keep Angela out of the scooby life?**

Amy Madison howled in pain. The scorching poker was being laid over her bare back again and again, blazing the indelible mark of the Order of Rion into her skin. She gripped the dirt from the clearing in her fingers as Niamh O'Connor laid the last burn on her back and completing the crown marking, letting out a hiss.

"You have been good to us, Amy," Niamh murmured, "you will be a valued member of our fold."

"Thanks," Amy said through gritted teeth, trying not to let the onlooking crowd of Order members see her tears.

"I must ask though, where do your loyalties truly lie? You were a friend of the witch, the slayer…how can we be sure that you won't return to them?"

"I have this thing where I like to come down on the side that's gonna win," Amy smirked, pushing herself into a sitting position with a wince. "And you guys with the demon-raising kill-the-line-you-created thing are _totally _gonna come out on top here. Ergo, me, here. With you." She paused, looking up at the leader with shining eyes. "And I can offer you information, more than I've already given you. You have to take care of the witch, she's your biggest problem…she activated all the slayers, desecrated the sacred line you created! What's more, when she was evil, she kicked slayer ass."

"That is no matter, Amy," Niamh grinned, "we have taken care of her. She will be driven to dark magic and her old ways in a matter of days, that we are quite sure of."

"And then there's Xander…"

"Xander?" Niamh asked.

"Yeah, he's got no powers or anything, but he's real observant, he gets everyone. Decent fighter, notices things that the rest of them don't. But he's easily distracted. If you want to destroy the slayers, you have to take away the things that keep them going, that keep them fighting. He's one of those things."

Niamh nodded her approval. Yes, oh yes, Amy truly was proving to be _extremely _useful. "And his weakness?"

"He loved and lost," Amy said with a glimmer in her eye. "Just like Willow. Torture him with it, distract him long enough for him to forget about Faith and Buffy."

"Consider it done."

* * *

Angela and Willow stopped outside the door of the Slayer Mansion, hands still linked.

"Thank you so much, Angela, tonight's been… well, there was definite wow," Willow smiled.

"I've had an amazing time," Angela agreed, "see you at work tomorrow?"

"Wow, yeah… work. That thing." She grinned, then pulled Angela in close, capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

"Mmm…" Angela groaned as she pulled back, a goofy smile on her usually so sculpted features. "You, Willow Rosenberg, completely derail me, you know that?"

Willow beamed, blushing softly in the moonlight. "Angela, do you-" Willow paused her invitation as another pang wracked her deep in her belly and her vision began to blur. _Oh, so not good… this has hellmouth written all over it. _Trying not to let her discomfort and increasing dizziness show, Willow quickly kissed Angela again, before gently releasing her with a hurried, "good night." Hoping she hadn't just _completely _ruined things, Willow spun inside, shutting the door behind her just in time for her to lose reality-touch as she sunk to the floor behind the door.

_They'd been outside for hours, just walking and talking. They'd snuck secret kisses under trees in dappled moonlight, they'd walked hand in hand, laughing and trading stories. Finally they reached her door, as usual going to part with a nervous kiss. She tasted fruity, like apples and cinnamon, and Willow didn't want to let her tongue wander far from the girl's honeyed skin. She pulled back, gazing into sapphire eyes._

_"D-d-do you w-want to come in?" The blonde stuttered nervously._

_"More than anything," Willow replied, her heart already pounding, arousal already thrumming._

"Willow!"

"Will!"

"Oh God, Willow!"

"Red?"

"Good Lord, Willow…"

A dozen hands were on her all at once, all trying to pick her up or hug her or check for injuries. Willow squirmed out of their grasp, foggily coming back to herself.

"Guys, jeeze, I'm fine…"

"Yeah, unconscious on the floor is _totally _fine," Buffy rolled her eyes, scooping Willow into her arms and toting her over to the couch.

"So the date was a bust?" Faith asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No!" Willow cried, "no, definitely good… except for the me totally blowing her off at the end," Willow grimaced. "I started to feel all blechy – hellmouth-blechy, not Italian-food-blechy – and so I kinda unceremoniously kicked her out…"

"I'm sure she doesn't think anything of it Willow," Giles said tenderly. "Now can you tell us what happened?"

"Uh…" Willow shook her head, "I don't really know, I just kind of zone…a-and then I dream s-stuff and I wake up all foggy."

"You mean this has happened before?"

"It happened during dinner, only for about five seconds and I don't think I actually passed out. I'm pretty sure I just gave Angela the thousand yard stare."  
"And you believe it's mystical in nature?"

"It has to be," Willow said softly. "My own brain wouldn't hurt me like this."

"Willow what are you seeing?"

The witch shook her head, tears – joy or sadness, she almost wasn't sure – sparkling in her eyes.

"Willow, if we're going to figure this out you have to tell us," Giles pressed.

Willow put the back of her hand over her mouth, trying not to cry. She couldn't, just couldn't… how could this be happening? Six years, it had been six years and it still stung just as badly as back then, even know just thinking about it made her shake, made the magical energy bubble in her fingertips. She was just trying to move on, move on and create a life for herself, and the ghost of the only woman she'd ever really loved still hung over her like a dismal, dark cloud. Just like when she'd tried to move on with Kennedy. Memories clouded her happiness.

Buffy put her hand over her mouth, sinking onto the couch next to Willow and wrapping her tightly in her arms.

"I'm so sorry, Willow… God I'm sorry. You don't deserve this. We'll figure out why this is happening."

"Please just make it stop," Willow whispered, looking up at Buffy, "every time… it hurts so badly Buffy. It's like I can't breathe. Every time I'm just a little happy, there's something there to remind me that I shouldn't be…"

"We will, we'll end it. I promise."

"Okay, feeling so far outside the loop I'm possibly on another one altogether! What the hell is Willow seeing?" Xander exclaimed.

Buffy looked up at everyone with watering eyes, still clutching Willow.

"Tara."

* * *

Angela walked away from the beautiful mansion, confused. Everything was going so well, yet suddenly Willow was pushing her out the door? Had she done something wrong? She thought they'd had fun, and that kiss was a definite more-please kind of kiss. Hot, burning, sexy, tender… everything a 'come-hither' kiss should be… and Willow had actually begun to extend an invitation. Then abruptly stopped. Was Cam right, was Willow hiding something? Was Willow going to hurt her? Everyone else did, after all. Roxy. Hodgins. She'd never been able to stay happy in a relationship. But she thought that Willow was different. That the beautiful redhead wouldn't be hiding secrets, or be afraid of commitment or break her heart. She thought she could truly like, or perhaps even love Willow. What had happened? She wanted to be angry at the redhead's actions, she wanted to, truly… but all she wanted was to go to the girl, to kiss her one more time. Rushing into her apartment, and cursing the sting of tears threatening to spill down her cheeks, Angela slammed her door hard. She rushed to her cabinet, pulling out her easel and oil paints, her hands itching to make something, to create something… anything to pour out all the emotion Willow had left hanging. Stupid, stupid Angela… she trusted too easily as always. Willow didn't want her. No one ever wanted her for more than sex. Angrily she slashed the colours across the clean, white canvas, splitting it with violent cuts of red and green. Every brush stroke brought a tear, each tear a drop of emotion about a love that she'd thrown away…had torn away. She didn't know what she was painting – she never did. Her emotions drove her hands as she shaped images on the canvas. Often she'd paint for hours and pull away surprised when she realised she had no idea what she'd been painting. Those were her best works. Slowly, Angela drew back, wiping her tears with a pain-streaked hand and smearing her cheek. She looked at what her emotions had poured onto the canvas, and sighed. A beautiful face, shrouded in shadow… blonde hair, sapphire eyes and plush lips. In the forefront of the painting was a girl, split in half… one half of her face was smiling, with one bright green eye and curled red hair… the other half had an eye as black as coal, with veins and hair to match. A yin and yang of personalities. The redheaded half Angela could tell was undoubtedly Willow…the other half of terrifying horror-movie version of her. And the blonde… Angela had no idea. Her paintings always turned out this way, a mystery to be uncovered, a meaning she wouldn't learn till much later.

She reached behind the cabinet, pulling free her other artworks and sighing again. Another of Willow, painted on the first day they met. This Willow was very young, with brownish hair and an innocence in her big, green eyes. Angela didn't know why she'd painted the girl that way. It just felt right. She glanced back at her painting from this evening… the other girl, the sweet one that was barely visible in the shadows of the terrifying yin-yang Willow… Angela knew the face. She sifted through the paintings, back to ones from years and years ago and… 2002. In May 2002, Angela had painted an image of the same blonde girl, sprawled in a blue top on the ground, a wound in her chest. There was light and dark energy swirling around her and a pair of coal black eyes watching over the lifeless figure. Angela felt her stomach knot, dropping the painting as she stepped away. No. No way. Her psychic told her things, that Angela had a gift, that she saw more than most people… that she just didn't know how to express it. But no. This was ridiculous, the images were supernatural – totally not real. Not psychic. But the co-incidence was scary. Angela's cell phone began to buzz, despite the fact that it was almost three in the morning.

"Hello?" The familiar voice of Angela's psychic.

"Avalon? Oh thank God."

* * *

Angel walked back into his apartment as dawn broke over the horizon. He'd staked three vampires last night, Faith helping him out on the earlier leg of his patrol. He hadn't minded that. Much. It's not that he wasn't happy that Buffy had found someone, truly… well. He was jealous, sure, but. It was fine. Really. Just fine. She was happy, and that was good. Very good. Super-good. He'd been with other people too… and he loved Bones now. That was something he knew beyond a doubt. But it didn't mean that there wasn't still a sting when he realised that Buffy wanted a reformed murderer more than she wanted him – an, okay… ensouled murderer. But Buffy and Faith had always had a connection, he was aware of it from the first time he saw them interacting all those years ago in high school. He just had to be happy. For everyone. Everyone getting their big, beautiful, fantastical romances happening except for him. Buffy and Faith, and Angela and Willow… God, even _Dawn _had a boyfriend. And he was sitting in his apartment, sipping blood and pining over the one of the smartest women in the Northern Hemisphere. She'd never want him. How could she? They could never have anything real. His tried-and-failed relationships in the past had proven that. He couldn't be with Buffy, and he'd loved her more than anything. He couldn't have Cordelia, and he was near-convinced that she was perfect for him. Darla was… well, Darla. And dead. In fact everyone he'd ever loved had died (Buffy twice). Would allowing himself to admit his feelings for Bones simply get her killed? Or could he maybe have one chance at perfect happiness?

* * *

"The scoobies are all tender and emotional and crap," Amy said, enjoying her limelight in the centre of the circle. The entire Order of Rion was watching her in awe as she spun stories and told secrets about all the members of the Scooby gang. "If you really wanna destroy them, you gotta hit 'em where it hurts most. Not just attacking them left right and centre – that won't make any difference. They're the best fighters I've ever seen, they got witch-power and slayer-power and _years _of field experience… nah," Amy leaned forward, coaxing all the other men and women to do the same, as if she were telling the most incredibly juicy secret in the world. "If you really wanna hit 'em where it hurts, bring 'em down hard, you gotta screw with their minds." Everyone gasped, looking at each other. "The three big bads that came closest to bringing them down were Angelus, Evil Willow and The First, right?" Everyone nodded. "You know why? Because Buffy loved Angel, because they _all _loved Willow…because The First could become everyone they'd ever loved… those three could torture the scoobies with just their words… they knew the things to say to make them stop dead in their tracks. That's why they all nearly won. Wanna win? Make 'em cry."

Niamh gave a low, hollow laugh. "We're working on that, my dear," she put a hand on Amy's shoulder. "Everyone, I want you to welcome the next demon we've summoned from Buffy's past." She gestured to the bonfire as all the magical ingredients began to swirl and twist and turn, until a body began to form in the fire. It slowly rose up, back arching with a piercing scream as the flames began to lick its naked skin. The fire crackled and spat, then threw the demon to the ground, landing her in the dust at Niamh's feet. Slowly, the demon raised a blonde head, looking up groggily with pale cheeks. Recognition sparked in light brown eyes and she gazed blearily into Amy's face.

"Rat girl?"

* * *

"I hate this fucking hellmouth," Faith hissed, sitting down next to Willow.

"Every one of us has lost someone we love on one hellmouth or another," Giles said softly.

"Yeah, and now this stupid Order of Rye Bread is using that to get at us!" Faith cried.

"Rion," Dawn corrected. "But Giles can't you see what they're doing? They're going to use memories of Tara to activate evil Willow."

"This is worse than I thought," he said softly. "They're going to target everyone."

"And we've all had major losses, right?" Faith said.

"Tara," Willow murmured.

"Buffy," Dawn added.

"Jenny," Giles stared into his lap.

"Mom," Buffy whispered.

"Anya," Xander said, his voice shaking with pain.

* * *

Niamh smirked at the Order, staring awe-struck at the woman on the ground. "Welcome back to the world, Anyanka."

**What do you think? What about Angela and Willow? Reviews please!**

**xx**


	9. Abnormal Again

**Abnormal Again**

**The Order of Rion has started messing with Willow and Xander… who's next?**

Willow woke to and irritating beep, groaning and rolling over, burrowing deeper under the covers she tried to drift back into the happy dream place. To no avail. The beeping got louder. She buried her head beneath her pillow, cramming it over her ears angrily. She heard the door creak open and footsteps approach the side of the bed. Abruptly, the beeping stopped. Willow rolled over and gazed into Buffy's bemused face.

"Will, this," she gestured to the clock on Willow's bedside table, "is called an alarm clock. It beeps to tell you to get out of bed. This," she gestured to the button on top, marked with _zzz_, "is called a snooze button. You press it and, hey presto, beeps go away for ten minutes."

Willow groaned, burrowing back under the covers. Her head was throbbing painfully, if she didn't know better she'd say she was horribly hung over.

"How are you doing?" Buffy said more gently, seating herself on the duvet covers.

"Buffy I feel like I'm dying… all night, I dreamt in _Tara-Vision_. It's like nothing exists in my head other than her a-a-and-" Willow's eyes rolled back and her body shuddered.

_"Mmmm…"_

_"Good morning sleepy head," Tara beamed down at Willow who was nestled with her head on Tara's breasts._

_"Best morning," Willow countered, kissing her way up Tara's chest to her collarbone. Goddess, they'd made love before… but last night paled every other time. Maybe because now, Willow could fuel her desire with the words, 'I love you'. She glanced fondly at the snuffed Extra-Flamey candle on Tara's chest of drawers._

_"I love you," Willow whispered for the hundredth time._

_And for the hundred-and-first time, Tara felt her insides go gooey with happiness as she replied, "I love you too."_

_"Mmmm," Willow said again, running a hand down Tara's smooth torso, gently touching wetness at the apex of Tara's legs. Tara moaned deeply, thrusting her hips upward and pressing into Willow's touch._

_"So much better than an alarm clock…"_

"Willow!" Buffy shook her friend again, sighing in relief as Willow's eyes refocused.

"Oh Buffy," Willow whispered, and burst into tears.

* * *

"So what's the bad news?" Angela sat down at her favourite booth in the Royal Diner, looking nervously at Avalon.

"What makes you think it's bad news?" she replied.

"Because my psychic called me at three in the morning, and told me we had to meet at the crack of dawn," Angela said dryly.

"Yes, well…" Avalon took a deep breath, "you go as far into the mystic as being willing to put faith in Psychics, in hallucination, in karma and reincarnation, don't you?"

Angela nodded, "which is pretty impressive considering the people I work with."

"And you wouldn't be astounded, I trust, to know that I believe in more than that?" Avalon continued.

"No," Angela replied, "you're DC's most esteemed psychic, I kinda have to assume you believe in more than just the power of Tarot Cards."

Avalon gazed out the window, staring into the bustling street beyond the window. "There are unimaginable things out there," she whispered, more to herself than to Angela. She paused, then pinned Angela with a serious gaze, "what do you know about Willow Rosenberg?"

* * *

"Anyanka…" Niamh breathed, circling her naked form sprawled next to the bonfire. "Long time no see. How was death?"

"Peaceful," Anyanka looked up, a sly grin breaking over her demonoid face, "but being here with the living beats it to hell." She turned her gaze on Amy. "You're evil. I like that. But obviously residual ill-feelings toward you reside from my pathetically human days." Anyanka looked up at Niamh. "Can I eviscerate her?"

Niamh clapped her hands, laughing, "not yet, Anyanka. We still need her… though of course when we have succeeded you may do what you like with her."

"And what is it exactly that we're succeeding in doing?" Anyanka asked, slowly standing, displaying her body with a total lack of inhibition as she stretched each limb.

"Do you remember the spell that Willow Rosenberg did to awaken the Slayer line?"

"Of course, I died in that battle, or do you forget, Niamh?"

"Never," she whispered. "What was it, over half a century ago when you and I used to rule the vengeance realm?"

"Give or take," the vengeance demon replied.

"We were queens," Niamh whispered, pressing her lips to Anyanka's cheek. "I the granddaughter of the man who founded Rion… who created the Slayer line. And your witch destroyed the sanctity that my grandfather worked so hard to build," her soft, Irish tones came out in a hiss.

"And you're taking it back?" Anyanka laughed, "Niamh, you're strong… but you're not strong enough to beat back five hundred slayers – not to mention Buffy Summers, Faith Lehane… Willow Rosenberg. You'll be dead within the month, and as much as I love bloodshed, I'm not sticking around to watch."

Niahm laughed, catching the retreating demon around the waist and pulling her naked form in close.

"I'm bringing back your every worst nightmare from your human days, Anyanka… The Master, Darla, Drusilla… the Mayor, The First Slayer, Glory… The _First_, Gnarl Demon, Glarghk Guhl Kashma'nik, The Judge, _you_… might even turn Angelus and Willow… who knows, I could even have some luck bringing Faith back to the darker side of dealings."

"And you can do this? Bring back the worst of everything they've faced?"

"Oh yes," Niamh breathed, "our order is small but mighty Anyanka… and they'll face it all."

A grin slowly crept across Anyanka's demon features, "you know, what, I might just stick around."

* * *

"What do I know about Willow Rosenberg?" Angela repeated, "what do _you _know about Willow Rosenberg?"

Avalon laughed, "I asked you first."

"Well she works with me… she's a forensic anthropologist. She's cute, and sweet, incredibly smart, admittedly probably more computer-savvy than me – which is saying something. We've been flirting and talking and we've kissed and everything and we even went out last night… it was all going so well, but she kinda blew me off," Angela looked at Avalon. "Enough info for you?"

"And what do you know of her life outside the lab?"

"She runs this school for… troubled athletic girls or something. Oh! And she has these major connections to all of our murder victims! As in, she personally knew two of the three, and knew _of _the other one… they were all with her school thingy."

Avalon nodded. "What do you know about her spiritually?"

"What, as in is she down with the psychic stuff?" Angela shrugged. "Not sure. She always wears this sapphire pendant, and – oh yeah, she says 'my goddess' instead of 'my god'. I don't know, maybe it's just a feminist thing."

Avalon, again, just nodded. Last night, she'd had a vision. Visions were a rare occurrence for Avalon, but when they did occur, they were powerful. They meant something. She'd seen Angela, dead in the arms of the infamous, near-world-ending witch, Willow Rosenberg.

* * *

"What's wrong, Dr Saroyan?" Sweets stood in the doorway of the autopsy room, not daring to come in any further because Cam had her hands in the chest cavity of a teenaged girl. But the intense look of consternation on her face meant Sweets couldn't pull himself away without at least asking what was wrong.

"You really want to know?" She raised an eyebrow, slowly withdrawing the girl's heart and dropping it onto a set of scales.

"Oh God…" Sweets paled, then quickly shook his head to clear it, "yes, Dr Saroyan."

She gave him a half-smile-half-grimace, slightly amused by his reaction to body parts. Unsnapping her gloves and tossing them in the hazmat bin, Cam indicated that Sweets should follow her into her office.

"Dr Sweets, I'm worried about Dr Rosenberg."

"Dr Brennan's new intern?" Sweets asked. "Why? Is she not keeping up with the work?"

"No…no, that's not the problem. She's incredibly intelligent, sweet, gentle, kind, hard-working…everyone loves her, especially Angela, they actually went on a date last night."

"So she's sweet, smart, perfect and everyone loves her? What exactly is the problem?"

"She's so involved in these murders, she knows our victims _personally _Dr Sweets!"

"Has Booth interrogated her, or looked at making an arrest?" Sweets asked, sitting down across from Cam.

"No, not at all. He doesn't seem even slightly suspicious of her," Cam shook her head.

"Well, when it comes to suspects, Booth is totally the man. If _he _isn't suspicious of her, then you shouldn't be either," the psychologist reasoned.

"They're old friends, Dr Sweets," Cam intoned. "They've known each other since Dr Rosenberg was in high school!"

"Oh," he said softly. "Still, Booth isn't one to lie just because he's friends with someone – I mean, he locked up Dr Brennan's father, and he's in love with her! If he thought she killed the girls, he would have said so, Dr Saroyan. Don't worry."

"I… I just feel like she's hiding something."

"Who's hiding something?" Willow stopped in the doorway to Cam's office, then blushed. "Sorry, I'm a bird in a honey pot," Willow shook her head, then off their confused looks said, "a sticky beak, you know… honey, with the sticky…" Gods, Rosenberg, stop with the babble, she thought to herself, you can't let them know that you've heard the entire conversation and are quietly having an internal nervous breakdown.

"Uh, we haven't met," Sweets extended his hand. "I'm Dr Lance Sweets, I'm a psychologist, I work at the FBI."

"Oh!" Willow cried, "Ang-Booth mentioned you." Willow smiled. "It's nice to meet you Dr Sweets, I'm Dr Willow Rosenberg. I'm a forensic anthropologist, one of Dr Brennan's interns," _not that Cam hasn't already told you that, _Willow added silently. "Oh!" Willow cried again, realising that in hearing Cam discussing her she'd forgotten why she'd come down here, "I got back the results of the tox screen on our second victim, the, uh, skinless one, Rona Everton." Willow extended the manilla folder, desperately trying to keep her hands from shaking. She felt horrible. See, Rona, as everyone at Slayer Central knew, had been flayed by a Gnarl demon. Gnarl demons use a poison to paralyse their victims before slowly and carefuly removing all of the skin, strip by strip, until you die. Willow still had deep scars on her belly from the one that attacked her after her summer in England. But the thing about Gnarl demons, is that the poison they use isn't recognised by the medical populous. In fact, it wouldn't show up at all in a tox-screen. Yet Rona's body was totally paralysed when it was brought into the lab. Which is why Willow had gotten to work at 6am just to slip an ancient South American herb (from her own magic supplies) which caused paralysis into Rona's sample. Cam quickly took the folder, flipping it open and scanning.

"Wow, not many people would know to use a poison like this," Cam murmured.

"What is _Cu-rare_?"

"Cue-rah-ree, it's South American." Willow corrected his pronunciation, "This particular species is called tubocurare,and it's also known as tube or bamboo curare, because of its packing into hollow bamboo tubes. The main toxin in it is D-tubocurarine. It is a mono-quaternary alkoloid, an isoquinoline derivative… it's an extreme muscle relaxant and causes paralysis and eventual asphyxiation due to the victim's chest muscles being unable to expand or contract."

"In English please," Booth-Angel sauntered up behind Willow, smiling at her and shaking his head. As always, Willow just… knew stuff. Though for the life of him, he was certain Gnarl Demons had their own poison, didn't use Ancient South American ones.

"Ancient herb, make muscles go night-night." _I slipped it into the tox-screen results this morning to explain the paralysis,_ Willow projected her thoughts to Angel.

"Oh, excellent," he replied. "What's the low-down on our other victims Cam?"

"Anita Norman, our first victim was stabbed in the neck. Dr Rosenberg, I'll leave it to you to determine weapon."

_Barbecue fork, vamp fangs, what's the difference? _Angel projected and Willow grimaced.

"Our second victim here, Rona Everton, was paralysed with Curare and then flayed alive, and our third victim, Chao-Ahn was stabbed, again Dr Rosenberg will have to determine weapon now that the skeleton is clean."

"Three different killers," Sweets said immediately.

"But the girls are all entirely connected," Cam said. "It doesn't make sense, does it Dr Rosenberg?" Willow tried desperately not to flush the colour of her hair.

Sweets shook his head. "No, Cam, I swear… different killers."

Cam just frowned, locking eyes with Willow. Suddenly, and intense flash of nausea and dizziness washed over Willow, her mouth barely working, she quickly murmured,

"I have to go…" And stumbled from the room, making it to a bathroom stall just in time to completely black out.

_"Willow, Gods, Will, you're just, wow!" Tara panted, lying back on the covers, Willow curled into her arms._

_"Worlds of wow…" Willow added, kissing Tara's gorgeous collar bone._

_"So, uh, what classes do you have today?" Tara said saucily, "I kinda have non-brain plans for the day."_

_"Psych…"_

_"Hmm," Tara began pressing kisses across Willow's chest. "And what are you doing in psych?"_

_"MmmMM!" Willow arched off the bed as Tara's kisses moved over her sensitive breasts, "learning… how… mmm… how, how the mind processes, UNH, sexual signals…"_

_"Mm hm," Tara began kissing down Willow's torso now, letting her tongue circle Willow's navel, "I'm thinking that today, maybe, should be a, uh, a p-practical lesson." Pressing the most fairy-light of kisses on Willow's curls, she looked up with a vixeny-virago-gleam in her eye._

_"Mm! Sounds… stimulating," Willow gasped as Tara's tongue delved into wonderful, wonderful places._

_Three hours later, Willow and Tara collapsed onto their bedroom floor, breathing hard, unable to do more than gaze at each other._

_"And here I though," Tara panted, "that you wouldn't blow off a class if your head was on fire."_

_"I only made that rule because my head's always on fire," Willow pointed out, grinning as she twirled a fiery lock around her finger._

_"You doof," Tara gave her a lopsided grin._

_"But when other places are on fire, well…" Willow grinned, "need special Tara-juice to put it out," Willow gave a lecherous smile, and slid down Tara's body for what she was pretty sure was the hundredth wonderful time that morning._

_"Willow….willowwillowwillowwillowwill owwillow!"_

"Willow!"

Willow eyes blearily refocused not on graceful sculpted features and golden hair, but a chiselled face, with a strong jaw and cropped dark (and overly gelled) hair.

"Angel, wha-?"

"Willow are you okay?" He asked, "You look like death… which is pretty huge coming from me, you know, dead guy."

"Oh, just these… visiony thingies. I-I don't really know what's causing them yet, well, other than The Order of Rion."

"C'mon, let's get you home…"

"No! No." Willow shook her head vehemently. "I… I need to see Angela."

* * *

Xander walked into the kitchen, whistling softly. Dawn and Buffy were seated at the table, already eating pancakes.

"Ooh, cakes of pan, gimme." Xander grabbed one and doused it in syrup. "How was the Willster doing this morning?"

"I've seen worse…" Buffy said slowly.

"Yeah, like when she was bordering on deadness," Dawn muttered. "She was all eye-bags and oily hair and crappy outfit."

"Well the crappy outfit's pretty normal," came a voice from the doorway. Everyone spun around, jaws dropping. "Did you miss me, Xander? You were supposed to miss me."

"Anya?" and his fork dropped to the ground.

**Anya has returned…and Willow is rousing suspicion in the workplace. Uh oh. Reviews please!**


	10. Done

**Done.**

**Willow's Tara-flashes are becoming more and more frequent, and someone knows what's happening…**

"Seeley, can you stay a minute?" Cam beckoned to the Agent, and he immediately agreed, seating himself on the edge of her desk.

"What's wrong, Camille?"

"Don't call me Camille."

"Don't call me Seeley," he replied with a crooked grin. Cam just shook her head, gazing at her hands and picking at her nails, biting on her lip. "Cam?" he said softly.

She looked up very quickly, hissing a quick breath. "You don't honestly trust her, do you Seeley?"

"Who?" Though he knew full well who she was talking about.

"Dr Rosenberg," she replied.

"Cam, I'd trust Willow with my life, my heart and soul… in fact I have."

"Seeley, look I know you care about her…"

"I've known her for twelve years, Cam. And in that time she has brought me back from the brink of some crazy stuff … she found me, brought me back to myself when no one else could. Not the woman I loved, not my best friends…" He shook his head. "I know you don't trust her, and I get that… she's really close to these murders. But I swear on my soul, she didn't do this."

Cam glanced out of her door. Willow was hunched over one of the worktables, assembling a skeleton at a lightning speed that would rival Dr Brennan's. Hodgins approached her holding up some phials, and she instantly grinned, holding out two stoppered tubes with scrapings in them. He laughed taking the tubes and shaking his head at her efficiency before walking back to his office.

"Am I horribly paranoid Seeley?" She glanced at Willow, now having a laughing conversation with Sweets. "Have I gotten to a Hodgins level of suspiciousness here?"

"Camille, you couldn't reach a Hodgins level of suspiciousness if you tried. Just… just trust her, okay? And if not her, trust me."

"I know I can do that," she replied softly.

* * *

"Oh Goddess…" Willow moaned, pressing her hand to her head. Not again, God… the flashes were getting closer and closer together now, maybe one every hour.

_"My little red, you work so hard," Tara began massaging her shoulders. "Come on, you can only do so much… the spell isn't going to be any better if you stay up another hour."_

_"I just… I can't have it not work Tara… this has to work," she sighed._

_"And it's not going to if you're tired. This is heavy stuff, Will. Come to bed."_

_"God, I miss her so much…"_

_"We all do. But… but we'll g-g-get her back, o-okay?"_

_The stutter in Tara's voice betrayed her unsureness, but Willow couldn't bring herself to say anything more._

"Dr Rosenberg! Dr Rosenberg!" Sweets was supporting her weight as she collapsed against him, "Dr Rosenberg," he called again, trying to rouse her. "Willow!"

"Mmm…" She hummed back to consciousness, grimacing at the monumental headache now splitting her skull.

"Dr Rosenberg, are you okay?" The young psychologist questioned, settling her down in a chair.

"Oh I'm f-fine," Willow shook her head. "Sorry I fell on you."

"A-are you sure? I mean, does that happen often?"

"Oh, I guess I'm just tired," Willow lied, "haven't eaten anything today…"

He just quirked an eyebrow, not saying anything. But the leftward twitch of her eyes, the way her mouth turned down slightly at the corner… she was lying. Why?

* * *

Avalon stared sadly at Angela. What had the poor young artist walked into? Willow Rosenberg's life was anything but ordinary… from what Avalon knew, she worked with the two original Slayers, training the ones activated by a spell Willow cast in 2003. But back in 2002, Willow's lover had died, leaving her distraught and kind of…evil. She'd killed two people and nearly destroyed the world, though since then totally reformed. Either way, Willow was obviously hiding parts of herself from Angela. Which in a way was probably for the best. Might keep Angela alive a little longer.

"Avalon what is _wrong_? I don't understand why you're asking me all these questions about Willow. How do you even know her?"

"She's very famous in the circles I walk in," the psychic replied carefully.

"She psychic?" Angela said with surprise.

"You could say that." There was pregnant pause while Avalon gazed down into her coffee, slowly she looked up. "What do you know of Tara Maclay?"

"Uh… nothing. Never heard of her."

Avalon nodded slowly, then withdrew a picture from her bag. "Do you recognise her?"

"Oh my God!" Angela replied. "Yes, yes I do! Willow showed me a picture of her a few days ago… never told me her name. She said that she was her lover and that she was shot," Angela continued more softly. She took the picture carefully from Avalon, tracing the curve of Tara's cheek, then she gasped quietly. "A-Avalon… I've seen her somewhere else too."

Avalon nodded, knowing where Angela was going with this.

"Avalon, I-I painted her. A few times. I recognise her now… I painted her into a picture of Willow last night. And there's one other, from years ago. 2002 I think? This girl… lying dead – shot – on the ground. But, but I didn't know about her then, or Willow."

"What have I always told you Angela? You've got a gift, you just have to be willing to use it. Draw for me, now. Please?"

Angela pulled a pad out of her bag and grabbed a pencil. She was always willing to draw. Throughout the day, an energy always built up inside her and by the time she got home she was always desperate to begin slashing paint across a canvas, or letting the pencil pull her hand across a page, as if it were some kind of release. She never knew what she was creating until she stepped away hours later and saw an image before her. More often than not though, they seemed to mean nothing. She closed her eyes, pressing the pencil to the pad, letting her hand create curves and lines and shading. She didn't need to watch, nor did she have any idea what she was creating, but she knew that when she pulled away it would be beautiful. Half an hour later, she put the pencil down, rotating the pad toward Avalon with a nervous smile.

* * *

"Dr Brennan?" Willow approached her boss nervously, "I'm feeling quite unwell, would you mind if I took the afternoon off." She didn't exactly feel sick, but if she blacked out one more time in front of her co-workers they'd probably rush her to the ER and, of course, they wouldn't find anything. This was a spell, or maybe a demon-whammy… whatever it was it wasn't good. Her visions were getting longer, more involved.

"I'm glad you've made the decision to go home, Dr Rosenberg, you really should look into getting some kind of medical attention."

Willow blushed, nodding, and left the Jeffersonian. She needed Buffy and Giles and lots and lots of books… Research time. Then maybe Order-of-Rion ass-kicking time.

* * *

Avalon couldn't help but smile at the picture Angela turned to her. It was an image of Angela, completely naked and spread-eagled against a wall, there was an hand pressed to her chest, the figure owning it out of frame… but the strange thing about the picture was not the naked Angela, or even the hand, but what the hand was doing. It was pressed against her breast-bone, and a strong, pulsing glow surrounded it, Angela's back was arched and her chest thrown forward, eyes rolled back and mouth rounded… the look was almost orgasmic. Except for the glowy energy. It was like the hand was pulling the light directly from inside Angela's body.

* * *

"Oh my God Xandeeeerrrrr!" Anya's scream reverberated around the mansion. Dawn and Buffy both exchanged 'oh god' glances and quickly turned up the TV.

"At least they're uh, happy to be doing the relationship thing again," Dawn offered hopefully.

"You can say that again," Faith dropped down onto the couch, settling herself in Buffy's lap. "Didn't know the X-man had it in him to make a girl scream so good."

"And you know from personal experience," Buffy chided, jabbing Faith in the ribs.

"Hey, not saying he was a shitty lay or anything. Damn good for a virgin actually, but still…"

"I _so _don't need to hear this," Dawn squeaked. "Remember, me, stupid teenage years, massive crush on him? You have _no idea _how many nights back in Sunnydale I thought about him while I m-" Dawn's eyes widened as the Slayers smirked at her. "Read the bible," she finished hastily.

"Mm-hmm."

"Sure, D."

* * *

"God, Ahn…" Xander whispered, pressing his lips to the shell of her ear. "I… I just can't believe you're back." He gazed at her. She was the most beautiful creature on Earth, shiny hair and pixie-like features, with big brown doe eyes. He could look at her forever. And she was _here_. With _him_. "I can't believe The Order of Rion brought you back," he said softly.

"Mm-hmm," she murmured, already kissing his chest again.

"And they wanted you to hurt us?"

"Yep, but I didn't want to. No siree, no hurting for me. I was just happy to be able to come back to my Xander," she kissed lower and lower, tracing the outline of his abs with her fingertips.

"And you lied to them?" he said in wonderment, for the millionth time.

"Uh-huh," she replied. "I told them I was gonna come and make everyone all happy… then kill you all. 'Cept now, I'm _so _not gonna do the second part. Nu-uh. Just the happy part."

"God you're incredible…" he moaned. He grabbed her, pulling her up him and kissing her again. "I wish we could stay like this, just you and me in this bed… making love forever."

Anya beamed, slowly sliding down his body, pressing kiss after kiss. She slid her mouth over his neck, nipping slightly as she whispered, so inaudibly his human hearing wouldn't pick it up, "Done."

* * *

Willow walked out of the Jeffersonian, intent on getting back to the mansion, but as she walked past the Royal Diner, she couldn't help but stop, a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. She could see Angela in the window, sitting across the booth from a pretty blonde woman. They were both giggling and Angela had a blush on her cheeks. Oh Goddess. She really had blown it last night hadn't she? She knew she should get home, but she had to go see Angela… She walked into the diner and approached the pair sitting at the booth. Angela looked up, the grin she was sporting faltering as she saw Willow.

"Willow, hi!" She quickly regained the smile. "This is Avalon, she's my… well, she's my psychic."

"It's great to meet you, Willow," Avalon smiled, extending a hand.

Oh crap. Taking Avalon's hand would be kind of risky… if she was a real psychic, then she'd instantly pick up the high level of power in Willow's body, blowing her cover instantly. But if she didn't take Avalon's hand, then she'd be, well, kinda rude. She extended her hand slowly, hoping beyond hopes that this was one of those hoax-psychics. Their hands met, and an electric buzz of magic passed between them, Willow nearly gasped, but Avalon didn't react at all, just smiled and greeted her kindly. Willow had felt not only her own power, but Avalon's as well. Less psychic-more-kick-ass-wicca.

"Wanna sit and have a coffee with us?" Angela asked.

"I-I'd like that," Willow smiled, seating herself next to Angela. Her heart pounding she turned the the Eurasian beauty. "Look, about last night…"

"Don't worry, Willow," Angela said, "really. I-I'm sure you had your reasons. I was actually kinda hoping that there'd be a second date," she said hopefully.

Avalon bit her lip. Now or never.

_Willow? _She projected telepathically.

Willow's head turned toward Avalon, ready to reply, but she quickly realised Avalon hadn't spoken aloud.

_Uh, hi. You're in my head. _Willow was kinda nervous now. She hadn't got any serious black magic vibe of Avalon, but it didn't mean she trusted the idea of having a telepathic conversation with her.

_Sorry about the intrusion, but I just wanted to tell you that I know what you are._

_Yeah, and what are you? _Willow replied. "And I'd… I'd really like that second date," Willow replied nervously.

_I'm a witch like you, _Avalon replied. _I just wanted to warn you to be careful. Angela has power that you, nor her or I understand. And there are forces rising in this town that will try and destroy us all. If you value your life or hers, you'll stay alert Willow._

_Wow that was grim. _"How does pizza sound?"

**Reviews please - I need to know that it isn't too confusing. Do I need to clarify anything, or are you guys following? It's only going to get more tangled, and I don't want to lose you... Thanks for being awesome!**


	11. I Can't SAY Glarba

**I Can't SAY Glarba…**

**Willow's hallucinations intensify… and they need to talk to a certain bleached vampire.**

Willow strolled into the house humming. A second date. She was going on a second date. With _Angela_. Beautiful, clever, sweet Angela… who Willow had totally blown off the night before. But Angela was okay with it. _Angela _wanted to go on a second date.

"Someone's happy," Buffy smirked, raising her head from her book.

"I got a second date with Angela."

"See Red, we _told _you that it'd be fine!"

"I… I really think it is! But," Willow shook her head, what did the psychic know anyway?

"What 'but', Will?" Buffy asked, closing the large tome she'd been flipping through. "Hellmouth lifestyle kinda means 'buts' are big. And please don't make whatever juvenile joke just popped into your head, Faith."

Faith frowned playfully, rolling her eyes.

"I… I… nothing. Really." And then blackness.

_"I still can't believe you never told me about your family and all that," Willow said softly, folding Tara into her arms as they began to slowly revolve on the dance floor._

_"I was just afraid if you saw the people I came from…you wouldn't want to be anywhere near me." Tara blushed, breaking eye contact with Willow, btu the redhead pulled her back into focus._

_"See? That's where you're a dummy. I think about what you grew up with, and I look at what you are…it makes me proud. It makes me love you more." Willow pulled her love more tightly against her, her heart pounding in time with Tara's._

_"Every time I… even at my worst, you always make me feel special. How do you do that?" Tara murmured, overwhelmed._

_"Magic."_

* * *

"Okay, I can't be the only one getting serious repeato vibes off this whole thing," Buffy said softly. Willow was lying on the couch, still completely out of it. Her skin was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and she was whimpering and thrashing softly.

"I know," Dawn whispered. "I don't wanna cry demon, but that's pretty much only because I can't say its name."

"Where the hell is Xander?" Buffy asked.

_"I love you Willow," Tara whispered, pressing soft kisses up and down her neck._

_"Mmm," Willow shuddered, "I love you too. Always you."_

_Tara slid further up onto the bed, nestling herself into the cushions and pulling Willow with her._

_"How are you, love?"_

_"I…I'm fine."_

_"Will, look at me," Tara propped Willow's chin up, gazing seriously into emerald eyes. "There's something wrong, isn't there?"_

_"Nuh-uh. Not here. Not when I'm here."_

_"Here?"_

_"Here, in your arms, in our bed. Together. Just us. No outside world to be all scary. When I'm here, with you, it's like none of that's even real," Willow whispered, placing gentle kisses onto the backs of Tara's hands._

_"It isn't," Tara replied softly. "The only thing that's real is you, and me. Us."_

"This is the longest she's been out Buffy, I'm scared," Dawn murmured.

"Can you go get Xander?" Buffy asked.

"But…but he's with Anya. They're, ah, you know…"

"Yeah, well they've been screwing all day. Gotta come up for air sometimes," Faith stalked upstairs, but before she could get halfway, she inexplicably turned back and came and sat back down next to Buffy.

"Uh, Faith, Xander?"

"Right!" She quickly stood again, heading for the top floor. But once again, within thirty seconds she was back sitting next to Buffy.

"Oh fine," Buffy said, exasperated, "I'll do it!"

But she didn't.

* * *

"Mmm…mmmm…_XANDER!_" Anyanka howled his name, clutching at his chest as she threw her head back. The room was boiling hot. It smelled like sex. She rolled her hips again and again, and he began to pant more heavily. Pulling her down into a crushing kiss, he groaned, shuddering his own release. She rolled over, chest heaving and a grin on her face. But he didn't allow her to break their connection, he simply stilled them for a moment, before regaining their rhythm again.

"Mmmm," she hummed again, "do you believe it's the appropriate time to stop counting when you reach the twenty-third round of copulation?"

"Probably, Ahn… I stopped at three."

"Oh. I'll stop the-eeeeee_eennnnn!_" Of all the things he could have wished in her presence that would keep him out of the way of the other Scoobies, she decided that endless sex was definitely the best possible outcome. And he hadn't even yet realised he'd made the wish. He probably never would.

* * *

_"I'm worried about what that psychic, Avalon, said," Willow whispered, burrowing further into Tara's arms._

_"What did she say?"_

_"She told me that Angela had some 'big power' and that I had to be alert."_

_"Oh," Tara said softly. "I'm sorry Will. I know you really like Angela."_

_"She's nothing compared to you. And I have you now."_

_"Just us?" Tara whispered._

_"Forever. I promised I'd always find you. It's taken me a long time baby, but I found you. And I'm not letting you go."_

_"But if you don't go then our friends will be in danger."_

_"I don't care. I want YOU."_

_"I love you, Willow."_

"Will, c'mon. Wake up. Please," Buffy urged.

"Buffy?"

"Not now Dawn…" Buffy dismissed her sister, putting more cool water on Willow's burning forehead. She was getting paler by the second.

"But Buffy-"

"Dawn, I said not now!"

"But Buffy, look!" Dawn gestured to the bandage Willow had strapped around her wrist. It had been hidden by her coat until now.

"She didn't say anything about getting hurt," Faith said softly.

Buffy slowly unravelled the bandage and her breath caught in her throat. There was a bone-deep puncture in Willow's wrist. It was swollen and red, the veins around it dark and bulging. Just as Buffy unwound the bandage, Giles came downstairs.

"My God. That's a Glarghk Guhl Kashma'nik puncture."

"A glarba-ghost-cashmere huh?"

"Buffy got stuck by one years ago. It made her all hallucinate-y. She went totally nuts and tried to kill us all."

"Thanks for that memory Dawn."  
"But, but this is good!" The youngest Summers cried. "We've already done this demon, we know how to beat it."

"You've already faced this demon," Faith clarified.

"Yeah, it was all ugly and stuff and it stabbed Buffy, but-but then Spike and Xander went and caught it and Willow made an antidote using its own poison and fixed Buffy."

"You've already faced this demon," Faith repeated.

"Yeah, I've told you, it stabbed, Buffy slayed. Well. Sorta. She went nuts first and Tara had to rescue us but Buffy got all inner-power-y and _then _she slayed."

"You've already faced this demon," Faith said for the third time.

"YES," Dawn shook her head, "how thick are you today Fai-," she paused, eyes widening. "Oh."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking B1?" Faith gave Buffy a significant look.

"If you're thinking 'holy shit, Rion did this and they're gonna use these hallucination thingies to make Willow evil' then yep."

"That's pretty much what I got."

* * *

"What's the purpose of that one?" Niamh crouched behind Amy's shoulder, looking at the vision orb in front of them. In it, they could see Dawn, Buffy, Faith and Giles all crouched over Willow's shaking form.

"Her?" Amy chuckled, "that's Dawn. She's Buffy's sister. Sort of. She used to be The Key."

"The Key that Glorificus coveted back in 2001?"

"Very same."

"And her powers?"

"Not much. Kinda bookish. Decent when it comes to basic fighting and research. Buffy'd do anything for her though," Amy mused, smiling at the despairing look Buffy was giving her sister.

"Anything?"

"Yeah, Buffy sacrificed her life for Dawn in the battle against Glorificus."

"How very interesting. I think we'll be wanting to keep little Dawnie around. For now."

"What's up with Willow?" Amy gestured to the way her movements had become seizure-like.

"The Glarghk Guhl Kashma'nik's poison has intensified, it is beginning to manifest itself in very dangerous ways in her body. Time will tell what visions it's giving her, but whatever they are, we can assume that they aren't good for her mental state."

"But didn't they just say that it'll be like, super-easy to kill? Just get the antidote and bam, problem solved. You're leaving a lot to chance, considering 'evil-Willow' is one of your most important players."

"Well here's the thing, the only antidote is the poison of the demon that stabbed her, correct?"

"That's what they're saying," Amy gestured to the orb.

"Which is why the very demon we summoned to stab her, is now kindling," Niamh smirked, gesturing to the bonfire before them.

"Niamh, I really do like you."

* * *

"Oh my God…" Willow groaned, clutching her head.

"Will, you're awake!"

"Agh, with the yelling and the hugging and…ow."

"Sorry," Buffy pulled back nervously. "How are you feeling?"

"Ouch."

"You're not in a mental institution, Willow."

"Uh, I know that."

"Just checking." Buffy smiled sheepishly. "Look, whatever is in your visions, it isn't real. You have to remember that."

"I know, Buffy. Hallucinations. None of it's real."

"Good, just… hold onto that. We'll get you an antidote and you'll be fine. I promise."

"Thanks," Willow said softly. "Now, would you mind if I just…went to bed?"

"That's fine, Willow."

* * *

Angela entered her apartment. It had been a long day. Brennan had made her work late because, with Willow being off sick from the lab, there was twice as much work as usual. She was exhausted. Angela pulled out her easel, grateful to get to draw something other than murder weapons and the faces of dead girls. She closed her eyes, letting her hand guide the charcoal. Her mind began to wander. Why was Avalon so worried about Willow? Was Willow a…a psychic? Did that make her dangerous? Surely not. Nothing sinister about a pizza date. She chuckled lightly, opening her eyes to see what it was that she'd drawn. Oh.

* * *

"Giles!" Buffy bounded into the kitchen, her hair still sleep-mussed. "Giles. Kennedy and Faith took all of the girls out last night, but absolutely nothing. No demon. Just a couple vamps."

"Did they ask around, try to find out where the Glarghk Guhl Kashma'nik went?"

"No luck, the guy at the Chinese place said that he didn't even know that there _was _a glarba-"

"Glarghk Guhl Kashma'nik ."

"Whatever. He didn't even know that there was a Glarba thingy around town."

"How odd. And Dawn's locator spell?"

"Zilch. We need someone who can track demons like that by scent."

"Angel, perhaps?"

"He's working 24/7 on the murders Giles." Buffy blushed, not wanting to look at him, "I…I was wondering if it might not be such a bad idea… I mean, because we really have to get this sorted out…we can't afford to, well, you know, evil-Willow is pretty much as bad as it gets and…"

"Buffy? You're rambling."

"Right. I… I want to call Spike."

* * *

She'd drawn Tara. Again. She was even more beautiful in charcoal than she was in water-colours. This time she was crying, her head bowed and her bangs covering her eyes slightly. But just like every drawing from the past week, in the top corner were a set of ink-black eyes.

* * *

_"Do they know about me, Willow?" Tara asked softly, pressing kisses into her lover's hair._

_"No. They don't know that I have you back. You're all mine. Like when we first began."_

_"Yours. Always yours."_

_"I just wish you didn't keep disappearing… going back to them. I like it when you're here with me. Don't get me wrong, I love Buffy. But I love you more."_

_"I like it here too. Tara, I don't want to keep leaving."_

_"Oh love, you won't have to keep leaving forever."_

_"I can stay?"_

_"Soon, sweetheart."_

_Willow smiled, simply nestling her head in Tara's cleavage and falling asleep._

* * *

"Angela, do you know how long until Willow comes back to work?" Hodgins asked, approaching her desk.

"She texted me this morning…said she was going to come by for a little while this afternoon."

"Oh good… Not that Dr Brennan will admit it, but I think she misses her."

Angela laughed, grinning at him. "She probably does."

"How's it going, you know, with the two of you?" Hodgins was trying – and admittedly, failing – to sound casual.

"It's good, I think," Angela said carefully. "There's a lot I don't know about her still."

"But that's half the fun of a new relationship," Hodgins tried to smile.

"And the other half?"

"Sex," he chuckled.

* * *

"Hi, Connor investigations, we can help."

"That's _never _going to work, Connor, seriously. Give it up," a muffled voice said.

"Shut up Gwen." Connor muttered. "How can I be of assistance?"

"Hi, Connor, it's Buffy."

"Buffy!"

"Is Spike there? I need to talk to him."

"You guys… I mean… you two…"

"Yeah yeah," Gwen pulled the phone from Connor's hands. "Look, you guys haven't spoken since Sunnydale fell. You sure you wanna open that gate?"

"I don't know who you are, and yes. Yes I wanna."

"Fine," she said dismissively. "SPIKE!"

"Bloody hell woman," for the first time in five years, Buffy heard the voice that once made her melt inside. "You tryin' to burst my eardrums?" Buffy could almost picture him, exasperated-almost-bored expression, swagger in his step… the way he'd joltingly snatch the phone from this woman's hands. "Hello?"

"Spike?" She said softly. Why was she suddenly tongue-tied? Faith…Faith…think about Faith, you're with Faith… you _love _Faith.

"Buffy?" his breath hitched slightly, which she realised was kind of ridiculous, 'cause, you know, no breath.

"Spike."

"Buffy."

"Oh God… I'm leaving before he swoons," Buffy heard the muffled voice of this Gwen chick as she, by the sound of it, walked away.

"Spike, I need your help."

**So so so sorry it's been so long. I had writer's block, but I'm totally back with this one now. Actually getting into it. Lots of updates will ensue. YAY. Reviews please?**


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